The Royal Intervention
by Sparkle E. Slugg
Summary: What to do with a Goblin King when he is unable to continue his rule? Can a group of others of his kind drag him from his dangerous obsession? Or is this interference the one thing that could make it worse?
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: No, none of Labyrinth is mine! I'm just wreaking havoc with what was already there! Only the OCs are mine. (Hugs Magda and Nico tightly, who squeak and try to escape)

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**The royal Intervention: revised chapter 1**

The room was in chaos. It was empty of the lesser goblins who usually made their mess there, and it seemed that they hadn't been making any messes for some time. The grime here was somehow fiercer and sadder then normal mindlessness.

The stone floor was filthy, covered in globs of dried mud, bits of broken marble, brick and plaster, dust, stains that were either blood or vomit, and thrown plates of food surrounded by shards of shattered pottery. The far side of the wall seemed to have slid down several feet, the ragged line of bricks slowly crumbling in on the room.

Through the one window which was set a little way out of the room, the hazy and clouded image of what had once been the jewel of the Underground could be seen. Well, the Goblin City part of it, at least. It was hard to tell that this room was the place where the jewel was helmed. The only piece of furniture in it now was a short wide chair with a curved back, which had been dragged over to the window, leaving a shiny track winding through the mess. In this chair was sprawled a long and lean figure in tattered finery with wild white-blonde hair.

He was facing away from her, intent on something he held idly in one hand. She could almost see his wild slanted eyes on it, could picture the look on his pale, sharp face. She couldn't see any of this, but she didn't need to. She did see that the thing which he held in his hand, running over and around his fingers and glinting slightly in the half-light, was a small glass orb. He pored all his focus into it, seemingly unaware of anything else. Usually he would have noticed the squalor in the room, even if he enjoyed it. Usually he would have cared for his appearance, though now his fine clothes were as dirty as the rest of the room. And usually he would have been instantly aware that he was being watched.

This in and of itself was enough to worry her. Jareth wasn't himself. She had been told this, but she hadn't wished to believe it. The Labyrinth had imploded on itself, all because of some ridiculous fling he'd had with some mortal girl who'd defied him and torn him apart. His subjects leaderless, his land crumbling, and he didn't even care.

His complete disregard for his kingdom had made the situation even worse. His usual companions of the shrieking, rowdy Lesser Goblins had fled from his presence to other parts of the castle and the city, avoiding at all costs this new and even more unstable king. She stared at the room before her, and felt among the general contempt, a flash of pity for the Goblin King.

"Jareth?" She had meant to sound imperious and superior, but the word had come out much more like a tentative, worried question. But it had been almost a decade. She had missed him so much… and it was electrifying just to be around him again.

As soon as she spoke, she felt his focus zero in on her. He remained motionless, the orb still dancing over his fingers as he spoke.

"Magda. You're late. I had expect visitors much, much sooner that this." His voice was huskier then she'd remembered it, and though his manner seemed the same, it was shot through with something like bitterness.

"Yes. I'm sorry. Much, much too late." _We shouldn't have had to come at all…_

"Who else has decided to invite themselves?"

"Nicodemus, Tero, and Comte."

There was a pause. She resisted the urge to walk around, to see him, to face him.

"Why have you come?" It was a whisper, a tone different from that he'd used before. He closed his fist around the globe, which winked out instantly.

He pulled himself to his feet and went over to the window, gloved hands gripping the frame as he spoke to the air before him. "This is my kingdom. You all have no business here." The anger in his voice was suppressed, and only showed in the slight shaking of his hands. He was tall, even for their race, and cut a very intimidating figure as he stood against the light. She fought to keep her face calm and cool as she crossed her arms over her stomach.

"It has been nearly two years, Jareth. You have done nothing to save your kingdom." _And all for some Aboveground monkey you couldn't manage to ensnare._ "The Labyrinth is crumbling, and you need our help. The damage she-" he turned suddenly to face her, and her words died in her mouth. For a moment he looked as though he was about to launch himself across the room at her, but then he relaxed and smiled slowly, his eyes looking through her at some memory she had no access to.

"Two years…"

Horror was seeping into her heart. Who was this creature? This was no Goblin King, this wasn't Jareth. Not the Jareth she'd known, not the Jareth she—She took a deep breath and took a tentative step towards him. He turned away from her to the window again, a long finger tracing the line of the bricks as he hummed a slight tune to himself, shaking his head slightly. _There's such a sad love…_

"Jareth…" there was a note of pleading in her voice now.

He whirled around so quickly that she took several hurried step backwards and nearly stumbled. His face was now an ugly snarl, contempt in every line and pumping through him. The force of it sent her reeling.

"You have no business here," he repeated, his voice a deadly hiss "This is my kingdom, my Labyrinth. If it rots, _I rot with it_." He turned and made as if to walk up the steps which were the only other way out of the room, but stopped as if he'd hit an invisible wall.

She stared at his narrow back, shocked. _What is the mater with you? You're a shadow of you're former self- just look at you! Your shirt is torn and unwashed; your gloves are dark with filth. You've become lost in some obsession that's devoured every ounce of your life! Wake up, Jareth! Please! Please…_she wanted to scream at him, to shake him, to bring him to his senses. But she… couldn't. Instead she shivered, and gripped her arms as if they were the only things keeping her from falling apart. She could feel his anger pulsing out of him, suffused with a deep pain. Part of her wanted to hit him, and another small part wanted to hold him like a child until he was healed.

She looked down at her boots. Jareth turned away from the steps and threw himself back into the chair, turning away from her.

"If any of your other friends would like to call, I'm holding court here. I won't move."

Without another word, she spun on her heels and left. Turning back at the door, she looked back into the room. He was in the same position she'd found him in, a lithe figure sprawled in a chair, gazing fixedly at a crystal ball in the middle of a crumbling and dirty throne room.

--&--

She stopped in the middle of the hallway, feeling nauseous. She put out a hand to the pale stone wall to steady herself, trying to push the last lingering traces of Jareth's powerful feelings from her mind. The color rose in her face, and unshed tears blurred her vision of the dark hallway. Then the moment passed, and she righted herself, pulling her velvet coat straight and continued on.

She found Nico outside, on the outcropping that led from the Goblin City to the very tall doors of the castle. He was still managing the goblins they'd managed to press into service as they dragged the bags and supplies the party had brought with them. His hair, wild as Jareth's but longer and dark black, was pulled back with a length of brown ribbon. His coloring was much darker as well, and he somehow carried himself differently then the Goblin King did. He was slightly hunched over, as though shielding himself from a blow.

He looked up, and met her eyes with his own, so dark that no white showed around them. In a moment he was standing before her, tightly holding one of her hands in his own. It was a sweet, unaffected gesture, and it soothed her. Those from the Woods had no need to wear gloves, and the direct heat of his hands calmed her slightly.

"Well?" his voice was deep and raspy. She felt his concern as his grip on her hand tightened. "How is he?"

She blinked rapidly, trying to drag up words that would help her say how Jareth was. Instantly his concern changed to cold resolve. She didn't need to say anything.

"He's that bad." He said softly.

She looked away, trying to subtly take her hand from within his. He watched her and kept holding on. He saw that the gold of her skin was diminished slightly, and her up-slanting blue eyes were uncharacteristically dark. He wanted to grip her by her shoulders, pull her to him and whisper into her untamed brown hair that she **had** to distance herself from Jareth. What had been a childish infatuation was now dangerous. Jareth was completely buried in his Aboveground creature, and would only drag her down with him. But he couldn't. It felt uncultured even to think it. So instead he squeezed her hand and in a moment was in the castle and up the steps that led to Jareth's throne room.

The goblins ferrying the trunks didn't even look up. They looked to worse for the collapse. They were quiet (very unusual for their kind), and pale. All the creatures here were like this. From the Bog of Eternal Stench to the Outlands, all was quiet and crumbling. There had been some sort of rebellion at the very beginning, some attempt by some of those who lived by the Outlands to take the city and restore order, but they hadn't even gotten as far as the first oubliette before the feeling of fatigue and despair ate away their resolve.

As the months went on and no one outside heard anything of Jareth, others of the High Goblins sent messengers from their lands to the Labyrinth. These glorified spies returned with shocking news. They told stories of the collapse and ruin of the Labyrinth, of Jareth's dangerous obsession and infirmity, and of an Aboveground girl named Sara. Appalled, but eager to take advantage of this opportunity, the rulers of these lands delegated other goblins from their own houses, who could then guide the reconstruction of the Labyrinth and either assist Jareth in his return to health, or relieve him of the burden of ruling.

Magda was of the court of the Queen of the Grottoes, who had sent one of the younger members of her entourage as her emissary. As gratifying as it was to be noticed by her queen, Magda had never felt more homesick then she did then, standing alone outside Jareth's palace. She smiled, thinking wistfully of soft light filtering through intricately carved stone, of passageways and tunnels, and the soft water of the Pool…

Her reverie was cut short as two others walked slowly up the steps.

"It's a complete disaster!" Tero said forcefully, gesticulating wildly with his hands as he strode over to her. HE grasped her shoulder briefly, then turned to Comte, who was stripping off his long cloak and laying it over one of the trunks being pulled by one of the lesser goblins. The two were both from the Sometime, and shared the same short, vibrant red hair and drooping red eyes. But Tero was shorter and leaner then Comte, who had a powerful, wide build and a weathered face. Comte continued for Tero in his steady, slow voice. "Every other hovel's in ruins, and every fourth creature is in such a depressed stupor they can't be bothered to crawl out of their holes." He smiled slightly, but he was tired. They both were. And the scene outside had been enough to fill them both with a heavy disgust and grief, though they hadn't been out in it for long. Magda reached out and put a hand to Comte's arm. He brought up a painfully forced smile up to his lips, trying to reassure her. He turned to Tero, who was still making half-formed exclamations or horror and anger while shaking his head heavily.

"I think I will go and explore our rooms. I will need to rest before dinner."

Tero stopped mid-statement, and nodded. "I will come with you." He turned to Magda. "If we aren't up by tomorrow, you must consider us lost, and try to console yourselves as best as you may." His false smile was slightly less pained then Comte's, but his eyes were just as tired. They both nodded to Magda, and began walking ponderously together into the castle, heads bent together in silent support.

Her heart felt heavy enough to drop out of her chest. Moving slowly, she went to the edge of the ledge and looked out over the crumbling city, slowly filling with darkness as night fell. And to think, their visit here had only just begun.

She didn't know how long she stood there, but by the time she finally turned to follow Tero and Comte into the castle, the ghost town behind her was covered in an impenetrable darkness.

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**A/N: sigh I really love Magda. And Nico, too. And… hee hee… I LOVE Jareth. Especially when he's all angsty. This is really his fic. Or that's what I'm trying to make it. But seeing as I am a major space cadet, we'll see how that goes. love to get reviews! They warm my wrinkled and twisted heart! **


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: No, none of Labyrinth is mine! I'm just wreaking havoc with what was already there! But the Originals are mine! hugs Magda and Nico tightly, who squek and try to escape

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Chapter 2**

The next day began with a thunderstorm that shook the foundation of the castle. Magda jerked awake with a shock while the sky outside was still black and featureless. But within an hour it had become dry and comfortably warm outside, the ground completely blank. But when Magda rushed into Nico's rooms where he sat in the middle of a sea of paper, he only gave her a bleary smile and an "Apparently that happens often here."

Still unnerved, she made her way back up the flight of stairs that led to her room, a hand out to steady herself against the wall. It was dark still, and there were no windows or lamps in this passage. The castle was silent, but seemed somehow aware and watchful. It would not try and displace her, but it could. It was His home, and He controlled it.

_His home…_ the words weren't as delicious as they'd seemed when she had been given her task. But then, she hadn't known what would be waiting for her here. Not really. Her head hurt terribly. She had barely slept that night. As soon as she had been near the point of drifting off, a powerfully sharp wave of fury or pain would throb up from where she knew Jareth must be, and jerk her into consciousness. The waves hadn't stopped until very, very late. And then she had been woken by that storm.

"This can't continue," she muttered, rubbing her eyes with her free hand, the slippery smooth fabric cool against her eyes. "Or I won't be any use here." She wasn't even sure if she wanted to stay _here_ anymore. _No. _She couldn't think like this. _You have a job to do, and it has nothing to do with Jareth, and everything to do with the Kingdom. I am acting like…like…_she searched for a word low enough. …_Some Aboveground creature!_

_Speaking of Aboveground creatures…_ who was this Sara? What did she have to offer Jareth? A wave of heat swamped her stomach, and she grimaced. Maybe she was pretty. But… Jareth had never acted like this because of beauty. None of their kind was unattractive, and no one would've refused him… No, it must be something else. She froze, suddenly thinking of something. _She could find out what was so special about this girl…_ She'd never gone out so far before, and it was hard, but… she had to know.

She settled herself on the step above her, arranging her skirts around her ankles. She closed her eyes, and slowly began to separate from herself. She passed through the castle, over the Labyrinth, and up to the barrier that separated the Aboveground and her Underground.

It took nearly all her power to get across, but she managed it, fueled as she was by a bitter, fierce curiosity. Once above, it didn't take long to find where she was. The mark carried by a creature who had been below was pungent and fixed. And then…there she was.

Magda hovered in the middle of a small room, crowded with worn stuffed animals, makeup cases, and well-thumbed books. The walls were covered in posters and pictures, including one of a slight girl with big green eyes and long black hair that sat on a table beside the bed. And then she saw her. Surprised, Magda stared at the figure sitting at the desk in the corner. She was so young…hardly more then a girl. She was sitting with her back to Magda, hunched over the desk, studying something intently.

Moving around to face her she saw those round green eyes, so unlike any of those Underground, fixed on the pages of a book. She ran a hand through her hair and made a note in the margins, sighing softly. It was very late here, and the girl moved sluggishly, her eyes shadowed. The only light flashed through the room from the street below; a metal creature speeding along underneath. It vanished around a corner, illuminating the yard and the tree outside her window. And in this tree was a white owl.

She sensed the girl's sleepy focus change to shock, and heard a gasp. Magda spun to face her. Sara had seen the owl as well. She was on her feet, staring at it. Her eyes widened, and for a moment they looked… wistful? Magda was unused to reading the faces of humans. But the girl was also rigid with terror. She stood there for a tense moment, watching the owl. Magda stayed motionless as well, intent on the girl. There was the sound of a young child waking fretfully in another room, and this broke the moment. Sara rushed over to the window, and pulled the curtains shut. She spun back to the desk, and threw herself into it. She was shaking horribly, and covered her face with her hands. Magda left. Somehow it was uncomfortable to watch Sara anymore. She returned to the Underground, and to the dark stairs and her own comfortable and predictable body.

_So that had been Sara_. She sat numbly, wringing her hands together. She looked down absently, and saw that her gloves were filthy. She got up stiffly, and shook out her black skirt. She began walking up the steps again, thinking. So she had seen Sara. And she was pretty… as far as humans went. But why had the owl pset her so much? Did it have something to do with the Labyrinth? Or was it just something from her own world?

Her headache was much, much worse. It was very hard to send herself out, and she felt even more weary then she had before she'd done it. But satisfied. She knew who Sara was now. That brought her much closer to understanding what had happened between her and the Goblin King.

That was some comfort.

Someone called for her, and she turned to see Tero making his way up the steps to her. He caught up, panting slightly, and laid a hand on her arm. She returned the gesture and pulled a smile up to her face.

"Tero! We hadn't expected you for a week." she said.

"Well," he laughed "Comte is still abed, and _he_ will probably stay that way as long as is possible. He-" his grin faltered "he was out there- much, much longer. He went in further…" He blinked his red eyes rapidly, and rubbed the heels of his hands into them. Magda looked away, trying not to see.

"It's so _hard_ out there. The further out into it you go, the more the feeling grows…it becomes hard just to keep going. I wasn't able to go far out of the city…" His tone changed suddenly, becoming lighter "I was here, you know, for that ball," Magda closed her eyes, rubbing her forehead. "I saw her," She rubbed harder "and it was…well, it was the Labyrinth then, of course. She looked at him now, and the light that usually suffused his face shredded by a dull horror.

"But it's much, much different now."

She couldn't think of a single reply to make to that.

--&--

The ballroom was the only possible room for breakfast. The castle was completely without any kitchen or dining room, despite the innumerable number of unused rooms, and the ballroom was the only room that was easily found from anywhere in the castle. But walking in to a grand, empty room and seeing only one small table in a far corner does nothing to uplift the spirits.

This room _was _grand. It was just short of gaudy, and most certainly paid tribute to the peculiar tastes of its king. The floor was a riotous patchwork of different colors and textures, rising and falling like hills of gold, emerald, azure, and scarlet. It was crossed by multicolored platforms and ornate bridges, some of which arched high above the floor, and all of which were pearly white and gold. At the far end of all this was one of the highest platforms of all, connected to no bridges and the color of a midnight sky. It was scattered with shining silver stars, and on it platform stood a shining silver throne.

At the foot of this was a modest wooden table. And seated at the table was Nico.

He looked exactly as he had when Magda had seen him early that morning, though without the mountain of papers. He was tired, wearing the same clothes he had the day before, though his dark hair had worked free of its black ribbon. He was hunched over the table, and picked moodily at a bowl of a grainy white paste.

Magda slid into the chair beside him, and rested a hand briefly on his arm before removing it to rub at her eyes. Her headache was now much, much worse, and light and noise hurt unbearably. _Whatever possessed you?_ She scolded inwardly. _Was there any point in all that? It was ridiculous, embarrassing, childish_- she looked up, and realized that Nico had just said something to her.

"Sorry. Yes, Nico?"

"I asked if you slept well last night."

She replied with a glowing, wide smile.

Nico snorted and went back to poking his bowl of much. Tero had thrown himself into the chair across from Nico, and had immersed his fingertips into a mug of a simmering red concoction. Flashes of color raced up his hand and arm, and he sighed contentedly, red eyes closed lazily.

Magda looked down at the empty glass plate before her. She though of the fruit that grew beside the shore at home, which exploded on the taste buds and filled the mouth with a sweet, cool, juice. Closing her eyes, she called some forward, thinking of the velvety blue skin, lightly peppered with white, and the soft dark flesh inside.

Opening her eyes, she looked down at her plate. The fruit wasn't blue. Or round. IT was as long as her hand, and violently green. It was also covered with short spikes that jutted out at different angles. She just stared at them numbly, too tired to even be surprised.

"What are we going to do?" It was Nico who spoke, his voice heavy and dull.

Tero and Magda looked up as he leaned back in his chair, dropping the spoon into the bowl with a _plop_. He looked past them, his entirely black eyes looking through the shattered picture window behind them, the broken colors turned into a harsh frame of the Labyrinth beyond.

"What did he say to you?" Magda asked in an undertone.

Nico tore his eyes away from the window and onto her face. He smiled, but the hopelessness surrounded him like a cloud. "Nothing. He wouldn't speak to me. He only--- laughed" his voice broke slightly on the last word. Tero slowly withdrew his fingers from his cup and reached across the table to put his arm on Nico's. Nico shook his head impatiently and smiled ruefully. "But how are we to do _anything _when he---" he broke off abruptly, and took a moment to recover "Well, I don't know what I was expecting,"

Magda took a deep breath, trying to keep his doubt and fear from choking her.

"I'm sorry" he said suddenly, looking hard at her.

She froze.

"I mean, I know it must be hard for you, since---"

"I think I'll go look around outside." She was on her feet, her hands clenched at her sides. "Since I'm here, I should see what it's like… out there…" Tero and Nico looked up at her, one surprised, the other filled with weariness, grief, and a little guilt.

Tired and aching, she picked up the spiky fruit from her plate and strode away from the table, nearly tripping on the edge of a bridge she didn't see. Behind her back, Tero and Nico traded silent looks before each returning to their own private thoughts.

--&--

It had only taken a moment. Just one moment, a single glance across a twirling and weaving room. Of course it was said that sometimes that was all it would take. Just one moment. It had seemed like a very long moment then. The lazy turn of a boot over an arm of a chair, the subtle glimmer of an orange jacket, the upswing of a smile; all absorbed in the space of half a moment. The other half was spent in becoming infatuated with said boot, jacket, and smile.

She'd known he'd be coming. He had some important business with the Queen, an agreement, or a bargain. He might've needed more water-horses for his lagoon, or maybe she wanted more chickens or something like that. The Queen never said why he was coming. Only that he would be.

But when he had arrived, she hadn't been there. She'd been sent to map a part of the lagoon that had become changed. It was a stupid job, since there was no way to get any mapping utensils down there in the first place, and no way to use them even if you could. And of everyone in the Grottoes, she was possibly the worst suited to be assigned there.

But she'd done it of course. Why wouldn't she?

And she'd returned to an empty land above, every tunnel and passage empty. She'd changed and dried, and then made her way to the main cave.

A huge room, filled with swinging lamps that gave off a soft orange light and a heady perfume. It had been completely filled that day, filled with all of the High Ones in the castle in their finest dream-robes, swirling and weaving on the soft blue and green carpet, a whirlwind of every shade of white, blue, and green.

And seated at the head of the cave, in the only seats the room held, sat the Queen--- and him.

She'd been leaning toward him, her cool face tilted towards his, wearing a beautiful soft smile. The folds of her black gown fluttered and swirled around her form, even though she sat completely still.

And he'd been seated next to her in a posture that spoke of supreme indifference. As he spoke to her his eyes swept the floor, taking in every shape and sound.

Then his eyes had met hers, and he'd smiled.

That smiling, regal king was so different then the one who brooded in his castle, talking and laughing and nursing a gaping break in his breast.

And somehow, she had no idea how she felt about that.

Surely the way he'd acted should have been enough to cure her. And in a way, it had. She still felt some measure of affection for him, of course, but now it was slightly tempered with fear. How could she handle him? And why wouldn't he talk to Nico?

_Well,_ she thought _he's never been exactly kind to him. He doesn't like Wood kind, remember? They're unrefined, coarse..._ she sighed. Just because they didn't have the need to wear gloves didn't make them coarse barbarians. And they had a king, even if he'd been sleeping for the past few centuries. That wasn't _Nico's _fault.

She forced herself to stop moving, and looked around her. She stood on the edge of the ledge, in the same place she'd stood the previous day. The Goblin City before her was bare and quiet. She made her way down the wide stairs, lifting her long black skirts slightly so they wouldn't trail in the dirt and dust. She still held the two fruits, and couldn't think why she hadn't left them at the table. She shoved them into the deep pocket of her skirt, and tried to forget them. Reaching the bottom, she walked a little way forward, coming level with the remains of a fountain. One of the stone figures that looked like a goblin holding a pipe was lying at her feet, glaring up at her from under sleepy eyes.

She ignored it and looked around. It had been dark when they'd arrived lat night. That was the only possible reason why she hadn't seen the mess here.

Some of the tall, rickety buildings had lost whole walls, exposing the rotting skeletons of rooms and chambers. Some seemed to have vomited their contents out onto the street, so that it was littered with bed frames, pots, bones, splintered wood, and a few cracked statues. Huge boulders inexplicably littered the ground, some higher than Magda's waist.

She stood for a moment in the refuse all around her. Then she resolutely began picking her way through the rubble, her eyes fixed ahead of her. She no longer tried to keep her skirt from snagging on wood or trailing in dirt. She had been stupid to think that she'd be able to keep neat out here. She absently ran a hand over one of the boulders she passed, and it stained the fingers of her gray gloves bright red. But she didn't see this; she just kept trying to peer through the dark.

A small figure in a window far up the wall of the castle watched her as she fought her way through the streets, twirling a glass globe in it's fingers and wearing a broad smile.

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**A/N: And chapter 2 is up! I hope you loved it. And Sara makes her first appearance! I didn't really want to write a JS fic, but it wouldn't really be Labyrinth without her. (note: doesn't mean this'll strictly be a J/OC fic either!) hee hee. OK, I'm done being inscrutable. Sorry I took so long!**


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer: No, none of Labyrinth is mine! I'm just wreaking havoc with what was already there! Only the OCs are mine. (hugs Magda and Nico tightly, who squeak and try to escape)

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****Chapter three**

Soon it was hot. The sun was directly overhead, and the air in the streets of the Goblin City was stale. The dust was thick, and swirled around her feet.

Magda had long since slowed down, sluggishly picking her way through the rubble. But the further away the got from the castle, the more of it there was. At one point she'd had to climb over the remains of a house that had tipped over and fallen across the street so that the door and windows lay flat against the ground. She could barely see the castle now, except as a blurred and menacing giant over the roofs of the city behind her.

She weaved her way past a large cracked porcelain sink, one hand out for balance, the other thoughtfully fingering the top button of her short jacket.

She hadn't been able to listen to what Nico had been about to say. 'Worse for you, since--" had she been so obvious? Were all the inhabitants of the Grottoes discussing her? Did everyone know? Did he? She shook her head violently, and screwed her eyes shut tightly as she stropped in her tracks.

She was doing it again. Getting emotional. Her Queen often remarked on how easily Magda was upset. The smooth and bright face of the Queen rose to her mind, and with a sharp jab she recalled that smile that was always reserved just for her. Yellow eyes wide, mouth slowly opening in a predatory grin that expanded across the lower half of her face as she teased her. 'So emotional' she'd laugh, tilting her head to one side. 'We'd almost think you were…'

but she never continued, only letting out a high laugh that everyone who was within hearing joined. Even Magda, usually.

Magda drew in a deep breath, and opened her eyes. Why was it _so hot?_

Forcefully, she undid the buttons of her jacket and wriggled out of it, detaching it from her shoulders and wrists with an effort. Air rushed in to touch the golden skin that had been hidden beneath it, cooling her arms and neck. Under it she wore only a sleeveless white tunic tucked into the top of her skirt, which stuck to her back and stomach.

Smiling broadly, She laid the jacket on the sink behind her, resolving to come back for it later.

She straightened up, and fingered the silver pendant that hung between her collar bones. It was small and round, hanging on a plain leather thong. In the center was a brown stone, laced through with threads of golden light that caught the sun and seemed to shimmer slightly.

As she moved on, her eyes resolutely fixed on the gates that were now visible, what looked like a moving ball of dirty fur scrambled over to the jacket and pulled it back into the hole it had come from.

………………………………

Dark ivy had covered the half open gates out of the city, wrapping up the sides and creeping around the hinges that were as long as her hands, fixing the door inexorably open.

The ivy had also consumed the wall and arch around it, and had crawled down the arms of the huge behemoth hanging off it.

Magda slowly walked though the gates, avoiding the long tendrils of foliage that stretched between the doors. The huge thing was… a machine. Ivy had anchored its legs to the ground, but the midsection which was the only part not completely covered by ivy was metal. Rough, riveted, soldered metal. It had splotched of rust as well. She'd never seen rust before, but she'd heard of it.

_Jareth has machines?_

She took a careful step closer to it, and reached out with a tentative figure

It was cold!

A grin growing across her face, she pressed her palm to the cold material, soaking in the sensation that the bumps and rough texture created through her gloves.

_How was it that he's gotten metal like this without any of us knowing? _Jewelry was one thing. This was…

She brought her hand up to her hose, and took a slight sniff. The acrid smell caused her eyes to water, and she dropped her hand hurriedly. She blinked rapidly, clearing the smell from her system.

She looked down at the fingers of her right hand, and saw that they were stained blood red.

She quickly stripped the glove from her hand, haphazard thoughts of bleeding and gaping injuries she hadn't noticed whirling through her mind.

But her skin was as it always was, without any sign of a cut or blood. She curiously looked at the limp glove, turning it over in her hand.

For a moment she thought of throwing it away. The bright red color made her unaccountably nervous. Yes, it seemed like a very fine solution. Just drop it into the ivy and you'll not have to look at it again.

_No, _a voice cautioned as she moved to throw the glove away from her. _What if you met someone? You can't risk that. You need to stay covered._

She flinched as she pulled the glove on, but she did pull it on, watching the light marks on her hand as they vanished under the fabric.

And Jareth leaned back and let the crystal evaporate, a delighted smile spreading over his face.

………………………………….

Comte was dreaming.

He had been dreaming since he had returned to the castle.

Tero had come in after breakfast with a mug of Nyx to put on the table beside his bed, and then left, feeling like an intruder as Comte fought with his light sheets and called out garbled words to those only he could see.

Then finally, his eyes opened.

The red mist before his eyes rolled away to expose a rough brick ceiling. Comte tried to sit up, but his entire body ached after almost a day of exhausting sleep. Slowly, he turned onto his side to look out the narrow window, the muscles of his back screeching into use. It was dark outside. Had he woken up in the middle of the night? Or had it been a whole day?

It took a long time for him to roll over to the other side, and to discover the now tepid mug on the shelf beside the bed. But desperate for any relief, he plunged his hand into it. Some of the brew splashed over the rim and onto the shelf, leaving shiny burn marks where they touched the ancient wood.

He had dreamed… Long dreams. Some images had been taken from his own past. Things he'd almost forgotten. And people. Marching past in a tidy line, some looking at him as they moved, and some staring straight ahead, focused on what was before them. But he'd turned, and saw that it was fire…

Impulsively, he ran a hand over his hair, and the memory faded. He breathed deeply, and slowly sat up. His sides ached a little, but the drink had restored some life to his tired body. Comte smiled slightly, and got ponderously to his feet.

The castle around him was silent. The hallway that led to their room was completely deserted and cold. His and Tero's rooms were at the top of the main tower, with spectacular views of most of the kingdom. This would have been a sign of favor in many places, but in Jareth's home… It was hard to tell.

Suddenly he remembered… Looking at his rough hands, and seeing The Lines appearing on his skin, then looking up and seeing a girl in a small room, staring at an owl. Turning, and seeing Magda watching, her eyes wide, clutching a glass ball in her hands.

The image faded. Comte found that he was breathing heavily, almost rasping. And he was leaning against the door frame for support.

Comte stood there for a moment, waiting for his breath to return to normal. Then he turned around and re-entered his room. His dreams weren't done with him yet. He'd wait inside, then, until they were.

…………………………………

Jareth had almost left this room. He was stalking from the edge of the sunken dais to just over the threshold. Then he would pause, mutter vehemently to himself, then turn back and reenter the room. Then he'd repeat this cycle.

He was profoundly disturbed.

And he couldn't seem to think _why_.

He was entitled to he disturbed. After all, emissaries- little more the usurpers- had invaded _his_ castle, uninvited, unasked, and unlooked for. Then they'd had the idiocy to act as though they were _helping_ him. The hurt look that crossed poor little Magda's face every time she saw him…

He would have laughed, but he honestly didn't feel up to it.

How long had she said it'd been? Two years, was it? Or more? And in all that time, not one glance at Sarah Williams. He tried to satisfy himself with glimpses in his orbs, one of the few powers he could still employ without strenuous effort, but he knew that it wasn't the same. Seeing the way the wind brushed across skin and teased hair was quite different then _feeling_ it against his own skin, _knowing_ that they shared that breeze, _watching_ the girl turn to _him, _laughing….

Jareth groaned, and reached out a hand to brace himself against the wall. There was none before his hand, and he stumbled, nearly falling before he gathered himself and stood upright.

No. This could not continue. He must… _put her out of his mind_. He did manage to laugh now, upon repeating the phrase that had been pushed through him so often in the last… two years, was it? But the laugh was weak, and breathy. Not at all the laugh of a carefree goblin king who was still in full faculty of all his senses and living in the comfort of his own castle. Not the laugh of a creature that was fully aware that he was feared and loved by many.

_But not one. _Many, but not one. Even when he did dare to appear to her, only as his Shape, she showed only fear. Or, even worse…

She didn't notice at all.

Losing control completely, Jareth pushed a gloved fist into his mouth and bit down, choking back the cry that was inexplicably working its way up his throat.

It was this more then anything that finally shoved him- forced him fully out into the hall. As if to make it even more final, the door to his chamber shut far more easily then it usually did. He had been betrayed by his own _room_.

Hell. Hell and all kinds of hells.

He knew this mood. He wouldn't be let back in until he'd at least gone out and walked. Now he felt drained. The wail he'd been suppressing had dissipated, leaving behind a devastating emptiness that grated at his insides. This was a familiar feeling, so it didn't trouble him much. At least he'd been shut out wearing his boots. He was far to tired to try and summon any clothing from his bedchamber. Even a handkerchief was beyond him at this point.

He knew that the others must be about, somewhere. The Lower Goblins weren't, he had no idea where they were. No doubt as far away as their varied legs could get them. Well, they'd be dead soon. Lower Goblins are notoriously dependant on the Higher breed. Ha ha. Think evil, now , Jareth. Think monstrous. Think I-don't-care-that-my-charges-are-dying. Ha ha HA.

He did try. He honestly did. But the mirth didn't come. He'd extinguished his store of laugh when he'd wheezed earlier. What a waste. He could have used it for something truly… _funny_. Almost as funny as discovering Magda's Shape. It had taken so little effort to work out what it was after he'd seen the Marks. He was somewhat disappointed in the Grotto queen. He'd really expected better from her. She was a pure High Goblin, at any rate. And famously cunning. But that was obviously exaggerated. So pathetic…

He strode through the castle, meeting no one. He had a rough idea of where the others had settled, and could easily avoid those parts of the castle. He could still control the way that the place moved for him, at any rate. Between that and his orbs, he should really be grateful.

Ha. Ha. Grateful.

His boots pounded against the tough stone of the parapet of the castle, and then on the cobbles of the deserted Goblin City streets. He barely registered the street, slapping one hand against his thigh and running the other repeatedly through his white-blonde hair. His mind was miles away. Worlds away, in fact. With the wind that he'd seen with Her.

Wind like that never blew through the Labyrinth.

He abruptly came too, however, when he tripped over a huge sink lying in the middle of the road. Swearing by the third Hell, he resisted the urge to kick it.

Who had put a sink in the middle of his road? He'd have to speak to Hedgewort about that- he froze, one hand an inch away from his leg. Now, he was truly surprised. What had brought Heckle to his mind? The dwarf hadn't ever really been concerned with cleaning streets, had he? He was in charge of the Borders, and of helpfully misdirecting visitors. Wasn't he?

_No,_ remembered the weary part of Jareth's mind that had often supplied him with memories of the two years (was it two?) that had passed, usually a second too late for him to be saved from embarrassment. Heffle had returned from the terribly accursed soiree at Her house, and Jareth had flown at him.

He had screamed, shouted, threatened, and roared. Loudly. He had even dragged Hemple all the way to the Bog, only to find that it had changed. No stench what so ever. In a kingdom of complete disorder, it had transformed into a crystal clear pool.

Yes. He could remember now. He had dropped the gnome abruptly, and sunk to the ground… and…

Well. That wasn't important. Hedgie had stayed in the castle for far longer then any of the others, and perhaps he had been in charge of street cleaning. But he'd left too. The roaring Jareth had become the silent Jareth. Hukkle couldn't handle a silent King.

How funny that he'd forgotten all that.

It wasn't funny enough to rouse a laugh, though.

He squinted ahead, at a glint that penetrated the dust. _I know this place. I just need a minute_.

He _did_ know it! It was the giant! The- the- the guard…. Who had-

He plunged his fist into his mouth again, and closed his eyes firmly.

For a moment, nothing moved. The proud owner of a new velvet jacket crept out of its hole for a moment to see if this big one had left anything for it. It hadn't, so the shape retreated.

Jareth didn't notice, or he was beyond caring. Slowly, he removed his fist from his mouth, and opened his eyes which were now glacial and glittering in a way that wasn't endearing. At all.

Face your demons.

Yes. Confront them, laugh at them (a proper laugh, too, not a wheeze) , and then… kill them.

He didn't pause to think about _inner _demons.

That would probably have been a bit of a setback, anyway. Instead he forced his feet to move towards the glimmer and the ivy gate, where Magda had stood, though he had forgotten ever seeing that.

The guardian was covered. The ivy had even grown since he'd seen it last. There was no metal showing now, except for one patch that had glimmered. The ivy was creeping in on it even now, perhaps spurred on by the nearness of the King. The Labyrinth kept doing stupid things like that.

He flicked a leaf with the tip of one finger, and it shot out, growing at an immense speed, before hitting the wall and latching onto it. Weeks and months of growing, speeded up by the flick of one ruler's finger.

Jareth smiled. Then he moved on.

And without one thought of Her. He was rather impressed with himself.

Until he saw what lay beyond the gate, of course. The sand. He remembered now. Red, red, sand that had used to be the Cess Pool. Now it was sand and sun, stretching farther then the eye could see. You couldn't get out of it by going straight through it, and no wind ever blew. So you could see your footprints going back behind you, even though they'd lead you anywhere but the way you'd come.

If he could have taken credit for it, Jareth would've been quit proud. Be he wasn't responsible for this. Just as the Bog of Eternal Stench was now the Twinkling Pond of Blasted Purity, the desert was no work of his. Just one more surprise Sar-She had left for him.

He was about to turn, but he didn't. It took him a moment to think why he wasn't already heading back to the castle, where maybe his room would let him back in, when he saw the figure.

It was almost impossible to make out, lying in the shadow of the first abruptly rising dunes, but a petticoat had been exposed from under the brown overskirt, and the white stood out like a beacon.

He knew who this was, suddenly.

Just as quickly, he was at her side. Yes, it was her. Not a trick of the Labyrinth, or the desert. Blast. Ninth Hell, what was she doing out here?

Of course, now he remembered that'd he had _seen_ her here. He'd have to be very upset with himself later. Gathering the limp golden figure into his arms without another thought, not even checking to see if he was too late, he summoned all his energy without a thought, and pulled.

Appearing in his throne room, he managed to stumble over to his chair and dump her in it before he sank to his knees. _Fool,_ he thought blearily, as the room dimmed around him,_ You've gone and overdone it. What on earth possessed you?_ With that, he fell to the floor, Magda lying completely still in the chair above him.

* * *

**A/N: I just noticed how much Jareth reminds me of Draco Malfoy. Hee hee. Hee hee. I love it. Not as much as I love my reviewers! Yes, my first ones, and I am way more excited then I should be. Just warning you, the next chapter is a leetle strange. So beware. **

**The great Suskino: yay! My first reviewer! does happy dance and gives glass of eggnog and cookies I'm so glad you like it, and like Jareth as a crazy chocolate mess! I'm having much too much fun writing him like that. It's getting to be bad for both of us. Thank you so much!  
GothHippie13: ooh thank you so much! I'm sorry it's so depressing! But I think I like your ideas… hmm… well, thanks a boodle! gives ginger ale and slice of cheesecake**


	4. Chapter 4

**Disclaimer:No, none of Labyrinth is mine! I'm just wreaking havoc with what was already there! Only the OCs are mine. (hugs Magda and Nico tightly, who squeak and try to escape)**

* * *

**Chapter Four**

She was standing on a red desert, the sand slipping into her boots. She tried to take them off and shake the red sand out, but the laces wouldn't come undone. Angrily, she tore at the shoes, and her eyes turned red and her fingernails elongated into claws…

…Jareth was beside her, crying, his clothes covered in blood…

… A young dark-haired girl in strange breeches stood before a mysterious man dressed in black, tears splashing down her face as goblins danced in a ring behind her…

… Nico was twirling her around and around on a dance floor, her ridiculously long skirts swirling around her. She laughed, and reached out to stroke his face, but Nico had turned into a leering red monster with harsh black lines tattooed all over his face who seized her hand and kept twirling her until she was dizzy and weeping…

… she was standing on a desert, a little way from the huge metal man with the axe and the ivy. She walked confidently, until she noticed the little shapes with hooked claws that dragged at her feet and pulled her down beneath the sand, where she couldn't scream and she felt her gloves ripped from her hands, and Jareth stood before her, holding her hands, and laughed. Then Jareth became her Queen, but She didn't laugh; she threw Magda's hands from her in disgust…

… the girl from before, running quickly down a long and cluttered hallway, glitter on her face and hands…

… There were armies faced against each other in a plain, and she stood above them and watched them, and she knew that one side was where she should be, and one side was where she wanted to be. She knew she had to decide, but time was running out and the small blue moon whirled on its sphere and descended to earth where it plunged into the field and showered both armies with red dirt until everyone looked the same…

_-Then there was darkness, and red, and blue and black and golden glitter- _

…She was in a ballroom full of light and masks, and she knew she was looking for someone, and she wandered and wandered but no one stepped out of the crowd even as the music dimmed and died…

… she was crying, great hysterical sobs that spilled form her eyes as she held someone's head in her lap. Whose was it? She had to find out, had to know so she'd be ready, but before she would look down at the head she held, she was away again…

… and she was swimming, not in the Grottoes or the caverns, but in salty water that was murky and resistant to her movements. Her legs and arms were short, and she fought to move in the water as it reared up and swallowed her…

… the girl again, weaving a crystal into her hair as that same man watched on, but the girl didn't see his other hand come up with a glimmering sword, even as shimmering tears fell onto the blade…

… she was in the ballroom again, and the dancers swirled and bulged, and she stood still and waited, and she saw a flash of blue and that was all…

…red sand…

… an iron man stood above her, and she thought he was asleep but his arm suddenly swept towards her and she screamed…

… her scream became a laugh, a wild laugh that echoed around her head as her sides ached and she fell off the golden chair she sat on, fell and fell and fell…

_She woke up. _

_The ceiling was dark above her, and she fought to clear her head. Things kept echoing around her, and she felt so strange… she coughed, and red sand came up onto her chest. Someone was beside her, their hand on her forehead, their concern palpable on the stale air, but her eyes rolled back into her head even as they called out to her… _

… she was in again, under the sand…

… The ballroom again, and the man in the blue jacket stood with his back to her. She tried to catch his attention, but even as he turned and smiled at her, he took another into his arms and spun away and she was left alone again among the maddened crowd…

… The girl, alive and sitting alone in a dark hole as laughing eyes watched her and a candle sputtered into life, lit by a little man with fairies on his hat…

It was deeply dark and quiet, and she looked around warily. _I'm dreaming_, she thought, _but… This is a different dream. Where am I?_ But then she felt the fuzzy confusion stealing over her, and she left…

… and was finally in the ballroom, and the man in blue was alone, there was no other. And he saw her, and it was Jareth, and he reached for her…

… Jareth was running to a small shape in the dust and knocked aside the giant man with the tattooed face who knelt over her. The shape had Magda's clothes and body, but the face was one of a helpless child…

She was in the dark place again. Trembling, she reached out to the wall before her, and pressed her fingertips against it. It was solid and cold, just as a wall was supposed to be. She slowly turned her head to look at a light come from one end of the long room with a vaulted ceiling, where a door was cracked open. Slowly, one hand still on the wall, she moved forward. There was a woman sitting in the room, looking out a wide window. She shone with a beautiful pure light, and Sarah realized with a shock that she was a human. The woman turned to face her, and smiled a smile that was exquisite in its pain, but radiant with some inner joy.

"_He was the only child born of two kinds…The only one of mortal and 'man'…remember this, even if you forget all else…"_ The woman laughed suddenly, and reached out to her, her long blonde hair brushing against the floor…

… she was whipped away again, back into her fuzzy dreams…

…oh god, and the sand was everywhere. In her shoes, under her clothes, filling up her skin. She wavered under the pale sun, and barely registered the feeling of her knees hitting the sand as she collapsed in the shadow of a looming red giant…

… she was swimming in the Grotto caverns, propelling herself through the water easily. Then her body changed, and someone was dragging her down deeper, and she hurt so much…

_Her eyes creaked open. She had to fight to keep them up, to keep from sinking back underneath the tide of images that were beating against her. She slowly raised her head, her entire body shaking slightly. She was…She was in Jareth's throne room, wasn't she? How had she gotten there? She'd been in the desert, and then… and then… She gave a great shudder, and sank helplessly beneath the crush of dreams_

…………………………..

Jareth lay at her feet, but he dreamt only of swirling around and around a crowded ballroom, where there were no clocks to steal his prize away from him.

His eyes opened, and it took all his effort just to raise his head a little way above the hard floor.

Oh, Hell. He ached every where. Some idiot had built the floor out of stone. Whoever it had been, he'd have to hurl them into the Bog of Eternal Stench. Or… Dammit, the Bloody Pool of Bloody Purity.

How had he come to be lying on the floor? He could remember the journey, the strange yank that started in the middle of his chest and then gathered up the rest of his body, and he could remember hurling the castle's architect into the Ridiculous Pool… oh, no, he hadn't done that yet…

He groaned, and put his head in one hand. He _was_ ill. Alright. Think, sir, if you can stomach it. He had been by the Northern Gate, the one with the Ivy guard, and he had seen… He looked up at his throne.

Ah. He'd seen _that_. She was sprawled out in exactly the same position he'd left her. Well, dropped her, really. He hadn't had much time to aim or be gentle. As he watched, she let out a slight moan and rolled her head, whispering something he couldn't hear and reaching one gloved hand out into the space beside her.

He'd seen her, lying huddled in the sand. It hadn't been so surprising. The others had felt the pull. But _they'd_ all returned to the castle on their own feet. _They'd_ turned around. This one was too… stupid.

He watched her face for a moment, though it was a little hard to make out her expression. It was dark in the room, and he guessed that no one had been in to light the lamps.

Then someone stirred in the window.

If he'd been at his full strength, the intruder would have been blasted into oblivion. He would certainly have _noticed_ that there was another Goblin in the room. But as he was lying on the unyielding floor of his throne room in the clothes he'd been wearing for more than twenty-six hours, he only pulled himself roughly to a sitting position and squinted at the shape.

It stepped forward to where Jareth could see him.

Jareth let out a puff of air that might've been a sigh of relief if he _ever_ would've revealed any sign of relief to another. He recognized the figure, now. Dark skin, black eyes, ungloved hands; it was that Woodlander… what was his name?

"Good evening Your Majesty," the Woodlander murmured, his voice carefully neutral. "Have a pleasant rest?"

"Quite," He was much too tired to even try and think of anything witty. He was shaking slightly, a fact that was only evidenced in the slight quavering of his arms when he put his weight on them. "I find a short nap on a hard rock floor does wonders to the spirits. You might try it sometime."

The Woodlander laughed, but he bit the sound off short. It was only now that it occurred to Jareth that there was something … But he'd done nothing to the Woodlander. Well, he'd ignored him when he'd first come to the castle, but Jareth ignored most people. If his pride was hurt from _that_, then he deserved to be ignored a bit more often.

"Is there a problem?" Jareth asked when the Woodlander made no move to speak again. His voice sounded a little colder now, that was very good. _Nicodemus! _That was his name! Jareth began to unobtrusively pull himself to his feet, but as soon as he tried to shift his weight his shaking increased and his head whirled.

Nicodemus' eyes narrowed on him, and he said nothing for a moment. "A problem? Not as such, really. I just wanted to know…" He knelt so that his face was level with Jareth's. "- _What did you do to her?"_

The intensity in his voice was sudden and unexpected. Jareth lost control of his face for a full second before the cold mask fell over the weak show of surprise.

"_Do?_ I didn't _do_ anything to her," He smiled wryly. "In fact, I do believe I might've _saved _her. You might've at least moved me to a more comfortable bit of floor for that. How long have you been keeping your heroic vigil?"

The Woodlander said nothing to his latter statements. "Saved her? From what? You've-" he stopped, and looked over at Magda. Jareth hadn't even heard her make a noise, but the Woodlander was beside her in a moment. She let out a low cry, and reached out again with a stained glove, but then lay still.

Jareth watched the Woodlander's face as he stood over the recumbent female. _Perhaps…_But this one was almost as good at covering his emotions as Jareth was. He could learn nothing from his dark face.

Nicodemus turned again, and stared down at him. "Saved her?" He repeated lowly "And _how_ did you happen to do this?"

"I don't feel any need to explain myself to _you_," Jareth snapped, infuriated. This Shapeless slug, talking to him as if he was the patron saint of all the Kingdom and he, the _Goblin King, _no more then a grubby peasant. A less benign king with a firmer grip on his powers would've blasted the wretch into the Aboveground and out the other side.

"Had I left her where she'd wandered to, the little _fool_, she would have died. Do you understand me? _She. Would. Have. Died._"

Nicodemus stilled, and unconsciously laid a hand on Magda's damp forehead.

"Died?" Jareth could barely hear him, his voice was so raspy/

"Yes," Jareth spat, in no mood to awaken this buffoon to the harsh irregularities of life "_Died._"

The Woodlander stood still. He wasn't looking at Jareth anymore. His gaze was fixed a little to his left and quite above his head. Jareth shook his head, and rose gingerly to his feet.

"Others have done it, you know," Jareth said, unable to keep all the bitterness out of his voice "And it would have happened to her."

He smiled suddenly, and looked at the Woodlander, who now was watching Jareth impassively. "Oh, my fine, fine fellow. If you didn't know before, I should tell you now. _This is not a nice place_."

Jareth turned fully away from him, keeping his cold mask in place until Nicodemus couldn't see his face. "I'm going to get a proper sleep now. Take her away, or leave her here. Whatever notion you chose to entertain."

He walked off, trying to keep his legs from shaking too noticeably.

Magda stirred under Nico's protective hand, and let out a hoarse whisper.

"_sand… red, red sand…"_

* * *

**A/N: ah, now I've got that outta my system. Honestly, I've been dying to pit Jareth and Nico against each other. I'm also extremely proud of myself for possible the quickest update I've ever made! oh yes, it's true! please tell me what you think, I honestly would love anything you'd like to give me! (Jareth-induced orgasms as well, though I know he's a little slugly in this. But generally speaking) Hope everybody's having a Happy Christmas, or a great Hanukah, or anything you're celebrating just about now!**


	5. Chapter 5

**Disclaimer: No, nothing of Labyrinth is mine. Stop asking! It only makes me nervous! So stop!**

* * *

Oh… Hells…

She felt sick. Her head was full of very small, very angry animals that clawed at her mind angrily, and her mouth felt gritty and dry.

"Whuh- Wheh-" she coughed, and carefully opened one eye. Yes, light hurt. Very, very much. She coughed again, and closed her eye again against the evil glare.

There was someone nearby. They were tired, and… angry? No, unsettled? Her perception was wavering. She couldn't sense the feelings of the person. Man. It was a man. She could discern that, at least.

There was a hand on her shoulder, the pressure somehow comforting. She reached up to the hand, and felt the warmth of uncovered skin beneath her fingertips.

"Nico…" She rasped, carefully opening her eyes a slit. The light didn't hurt so much now, and her head felt a little steadier on her shoulders.

"Here," came the raspy command "Drink this."

A mug was pressed to her lips and she drank. It was a lukewarm stew that tasted strongly like tree bark. She coughed slightly, but Nico kept the mug to her lips, and she drank it all.

He chuckled lightly "Yes, I know it's awful. But it's all I could find that could help."

She opened her eyes fully, looking around at her surroundings. She was lying on a soft sedan chair, in a room hung with black and blue hangings. There was a window in the opposite wall that let in a bright stream of light that cut at her frayed nerves.

"Where am I, Nico?" Slowly and carefully, she pulled herself to a sitting position, Nico's hands coming at once to support her.

He shifted slightly. _Embarrassment. _She was beginning to feel things clearly now.

"In my rooms. Jareth never said where all our rooms are, and my room wasn't far from—from where you were."

"Where I-" she paused. There was something… something lingering on the edge of her mind…

_Sand, red sand and arms pulling at her legs, down down down…_

"Magda!" he was shaking her shoulder, and she realized that she'd slumped back against the couch. Her head rang with the echoes of the vision.

"Nico… What's happening?" She was too tired to lie and tell him that she was fine. She looked at the skin on her bare arms. The gold color was dirty and dull. Something was wrong.

"You were out there for a long time, Magda," Nico said heavily, getting to his feet and flashing over to a bowl by the door. "Did you… Did you dream?"

"Yes," Magda said softly.

He spooned some clear liquid from the bowl into the cup she'd emptied. "We all went out in the Labyrinth, when we first arrived. You remember when we all came back… It was hard, out there. The air got thick and stifling, and it got harder and harder to lift our feet. There were echoes…" He shuddered, and the horror he still felt at the memory throbbed through the tense air. Nico took a long breath, bracing himself with one hand against the table. Finally he turned, and brought the filled cup back over to her.

"Drink," he commanded, pushing the cup gently into her hands. Then he continued. "Of course, Tero and I didn't go as far as Comte did. He's much more durable then either of us. We waited for him, partly because we didn't want to leave him, and partly because we were too weak on our own to make it back to the castle without him. Tero's gotten to rely on Comte so much that his own ability is connected to him, and I-" Nico faltered, staring at his unblemished hands, and Magda felt a pang when she recognized the shame and dull resentment that accompanied his words "… I couldn't go either. So we waited. Finally, Comte came up to us, barely able to put one foot in front of the other, but moving slowly. He needed us to support him, but with his help, we made it back to the castle. Tero and I only had one night of… dreams. But Comte's been in his room since. Tero says he's up now, but still in bed." Nico sighed, and took the mug away from her again.

"And you went in… all alone! Magda, why didn't you turn back?"

She looked up at him, surprised at the vehemence behind his words. Was he angry with her?

"I'm sorry, Nico" she faltered, hardly knowing _why_ she was apologizing "I was out in the desert, and I thought… I thought I was just tired. I—I wanted to…" _you wanted to play the hero_ "… I wanted to explore the city. And then by the time I realized that… that I was… That it wasn't… that the force I was resisting was an actual force, and not something I'd dreamed up… I think it was too late." She stopped and looked away miserably.

"Hells, Magda. If Jareth hadn't found you-"

"Jareth? He was the one who brought me back?"

"Yes," Nico growled, gripping the mug tightly

Magda missed the tension in him. "But he hasn't left his _room_ in ages, let alone his castle. Why did he do it?"

"Magda!" Nico admonished sternly "I know you think he's a hard, cold bastard, but he is _human_. He couldn't just watch you..." He stopped suddenly, and then continued "…Watch you lying there and not do anything to help."

That hadn't been what he was going to say, and they both knew it. Nico shifted slightly, and then smiled, pressing one hand to Magda's forehead, and then resting it on her shoulder.

"Rest for now. You look absolutely wretched, you know."

Magda smiled at him, but was suddenly too sleepy to reply. She closed her eyes slowly, Nico's warm voice sinking into the background.

"Don't worry. I'll take care of you…"

………………………………………

Jareth had collapsed onto his bed immediately after entering his room, fully clothed and on top of the rich woven comforter.

He felt terrible. Raising a gloved hand to eye level, he tried to conjure a globe. Very good. It appeared in his fingers, and he had to grab at it to keep it from crashing into his nose. He turned it over in his palm, thinking. Then he tried to transform it into a pillow. Nothing. A blank book. Nothing. A blasted _scarf_. Nothing. A ribbon… still nothing. He was running into some sort of wall, a barrier that he'd never felt in connection with _his_ magic before.

This wasn't good. His power shouldn't have been totally drained like this. He had been angry in the past, and had grieved (despite the rumor that was apparently circulating about him being a cold, supercilious worm who wouldn't even invite a little lost girl in to meet his missus), and yet something like this had never happened to him before. He had never had such an upheaval as to destroy that which was the fiber of his being.

None of his family had ever encountered this either. That he knew of, anyway. True, his father had gone completely insane before his death, but he'd still had full control of himself up to the end, much to the chagrin of his executioners. He didn't know as much of his mother's life, but he was sure that she'd never…

He rolled onto his side, groaning slightly. He seldom had use for this room, preferring to spend him time in the throne room where he could survey his kingdom in comfort, but whenever he was so unsettled or weary that he had to find a comforting bed, he could find it. He usually wasn't in any state to appreciate it, of course. The last time he'd been here (he suddenly remembered) he'd broken most of the things in the room. But they were all repaired now.

He snorted inelegantly, and buried his face in the fabric. How was it that the castle and the Labyrinth were more active then they'd been in millennia, and yet he couldn't turn a globe into a thing as rudimentary as a sliver of cloth?

Well, there was one very, very easy answer.

He laid very still on the bed, weighing the damage that speaking the answer might cause.

_Sarah_.

He was still and unmoved for one heartbeat. Just one.

_Sarah. _

He rolled onto his back, covering his face with his hands

_Sarah, Sarah_

He couldn't stay still; he leapt to his feet in one fluid motion and began to stalk back and forth across the room, rubbing his arms frantically in an effort to stop the sudden chill that had spread through his entire body.

_Sarah. Long brown hair, green eyes that smiled…_

He would have preferred to throw things. It was somehow much more painful to sink slowly onto the bed, exhausted and defeated, as that name reverberated inside his tired skull.

………………………………….

Sarah sat straight up in bed, blinking furiously

Someone had just shouted her name right in her ear, but it wasn't _her_ ear, not the ear that was presently aching from being pressed hard against a pillow, it was… a different ear.

Sarah tried to laugh, but she was too rattled.

It had been a very strange few weeks. She'd been jumping at every tiny sound, unable to sit still. Her stepmother had made a few comments that were supposed to be sarcastic but were really worried. She'd also become unaccountably nervous around birds. Owls had always made her nervous, for some reason, but lately it'd been every kind of bird, from the senile old canary Toby had adopted to the tiny birds that chirped in the trees around her house.

And she kept feeling like someone was watching her, or trying to talk to her…

She groaned, and lay back in bed, staring unseeingly at the ceiling. She didn't need this. She hadn't heard back from any of her colleges, and midterms were coming up, and she felt like there was something that she should be remembering, but for the life of her she couldn't make it out.

She turned her head, gazing out the window. Maybe it was stress. She'd just completely reassessed her life options, discarding her childish dreams of writing and acting. That was bound to cause some mental waves, right?

And it was senior year. She'd read of tons of cases where seniors who'd had stable behavior all through their high school career had suddenly had to come to grips with getting older and leaving the protection of their family's home and had more or less cracked.

So maybe she was just cracking.

But crazy people didn't _think_ that they were crazy. And she was definitely starting to have her doubts.

She'd been dreaming. There had been a woman. A tall, bright woman who'd been lying on the floor of some stone room that was so familiar… but… where had she seen it?

Her bedroom door creaked open.

Sarah had almost jumped to her feet to fly at the intruder before she realized who her visitor was.

"Hey Toby. Couldn't sleep?"

The boy shook his head, and walked over to her, pulling himself up onto her lap.

"Yeah. Me neither."

"Story, Sarah?" Toby whispered, looking up at her

"Sure. Which one?"

"The Goblin one."

She had an irrational surge of fear and panic, but it quieted almost instantly. How strange. She'd told the story hundreds of times before, and always there was the same shock of feeling, though she could never explain it afterwards. Shaking herself mentally, she shifted her weight so the boy wouldn't feel so heavy on her lap.

"There is a place beyond what you or I can see. It's a wild place, and a scary place, and a wonderful place. And in this place there lived the goblins, and they had a King…"

* * *

**Author's Note: Yes,I finally have a fresh chapter up! Or semi-fresh, anyways. It's been gathering dust in my documents for a while now, and it's only this minute, at... um... 2:13 in the morning, that I'm submitting it. Why? Because I felt like it needed to be done. I can't explain it, I really can't. Well, I know nothing really happens in this chapter. Sorry. But I'm accepting any ideas about what should happen. I have a sort-of-kind-of idea of what's happening, but it's not too substantial. So drop me a line, or something. At least review. I like reviews. They send shafts of light into my cold, dark, and very dusty world. Cheers!**


	6. Chapter 6

**Disclaimer: None of the Labyrinth is mine, blah blah blah. Now read the story!**

The first week was somewhat of a let down after the first highly dramatic and emotional first few days. Comte emerged from his and Tero's rooms on the third day, shaken and pale but fully functioning. In response, Tero was even louder and jitterier than he was before. This provided a distraction for Nico, who could pour his mounting frustration into annoyance at the tall Sometimer.

Magda stayed mostly in her room, having relocated as soon as she felt she was well enough to leave Nico's chambers. She could feel his embarrassment at having her there, and she herself wasn't too sad to be leaving.

And Jareth didn't speak to anyone. Nico did try and talk to him on a regular basis. He brought him meals that the King ignored, and news of the Labyrinth that the King didn't pay any attention to. He would vanish from his throne room for hours at a time, and no one could find him anywhere. Even Magda couldn't sense the constant thrumming of anger that usually marked his presence in the castle. It was as if he'd actually left the castle, though that was impossible. One of the four was always camped out in the entrance hall.

But when he'd returned, she always noted that the anger was somewhat lessened. Though it was still there. And even more… well, it wasn't sadness, exactly, but more like a… well, she didn't know. And that made her annoyed. She should know. She had never been skilled at all the basic skills of the High Goblins, but she had always been able to feel the emotions of others as clearly as if they were her own. And now she was wavering. Sometimes she could sense the feelings of her companions and the king absolutely perfectly, and sometimes she could sense nothing. It was a new sensation for her, and it was terrifying. Similar to the feeling a normal being would have if they suddenly could no longer smell. It was barely remarkable when it worked, but when it didn't it felt like she was cut off from the rest of the world.

Still, she wished she knew where he was going. She'd tried to go to Sarah again, just to see if there had been any changes, but when she'd tried a few times to clear the barrier that separated the worlds she'd only ended up sore and discombobulated. So she'd wait until she was better, however little she liked it.

The Labyrinth did have seasons, of a sort. It had a scorching summer, an unnaturally long fall, a quick but nasty winter, and maybe (at best) two days of spring. In between the tiny spring and brutal summer, it rained nonstop.

It was, without a doubt, the most horrible place she'd ever been in, she thought to herself. She was sitting on the small flight of stairs that led to her room, staring down the stone hallway and at a small window that overlooked a dull yellow sky. She ached more than ever for home. She wanted to be in the cool waters of the Grotto, and she wanted to see her Queen.

There had been no contact from her Queen yet, but Magda wasn't overly worried. She knew that there wasn't much that could hold the Queen's attention for very long, and the problems in another land were probably not uppermost in her thoughts. Magda didn't mind. Really, she didn't mind at all.

And what would the point of the message be anyway? Magda had given up the idea that she could somehow solve all the problems of the Labyrinth. Even if she was ordered to do something, how would she do it? She had no power, no strength at the moment, and no way to convince Jareth to do anything. So maybe she should have been relieved. She didn't know what to think about it, so she tried not to think about it at all.

"Are you alright?" someone said below her. Leaning over the stone banister to look below her, she saw that it was Comte.

"Yes, I'm fine," she called down to him, smiling "I'm just sitting." She paused, not sure what to say next. "Would you—would you like to join me?"

She saw Comte smile, and then continue up the stairs. She sat back on the step, looking again at the window at the end of the hall. Comte reached the landing and sat gingerly on the step below her.

"How are you feeling, Comte?" She asked, taking in the signs of discomfort and feeling (faintly) some pain and annoyance in him. He had been moving around the castle as if he'd never been trapped in his own mind for the last three days, but it had taken a toll on him.

He shook his head and smiled slightly "I'm fine," he rumbled "I'm just still a little sore. I'm not used to being bed-bound for so long." She believed him. Those from the Sometime were famed for their restlessness and activity. "But I've been looking for you all day, Magda."

She didn't reply. She just shifted slightly so her skirt wasn't in his way, and looked down the hallway at the now darkening window. It was going to be night in a little while. She could hear, faintly, the sounds of the Labyrinth settling. Tiny noises like stones moving or plants shifting.

"I'm sorry," She said automatically "I didn't mean to cause any trouble."

"I know you didn't," Comte grumbled, annoyed. "I just wanted to see how you were."

Again, she didn't reply. She just stared at the window. Comte followed her example and looked down the corridor.

"Are there other rooms up here?" He asked, willing to put off what he'd wanted to say to her for a while.

"No," she replied, leaning back slightly against the step "Just mine."

Comte frowned "But isn't that a door at the end?"

She nodded, closing her eyes "But it doesn't go anywhere. It's a part of the wall. You can go see for yourself, if you'd like"

Comte pulled himself to his feet and walked slowly down the hall. Magda sat back against the step, and closed her eyes. She was fading into a blank spell. Her invisible antennae that could always sense the feelings of others were slowly shutting down. The silence settled heavily around her head, and she breathed deeply. She could fight off the panic. It just took a little effort.

"It_ is_ just a part of the wall," Comte called down the hall, running his square hands over the frame of the door. There was no seam or crack between door and wall. It was as if it had been painted over, or just carved into the stone. "What's the point in having a door that doesn't open?"

"I don't know," she said wearily "I didn't design it. Ask Jareth."

Comte sighed, and came slowly back towards her. He stopped in front of her, and clasped his hands behind his back.

"About him, Magda…"

"Yes?" she asked tetchily "What about him?"

"Have you talked to him since you came out of Nico's room?"

"No," she said, trying not to sound short. "I got the very, _very_ distinct impression that he didn't want to see me anymore." Her golden skin flushed as she said it, and she stared fixedly at the floor. Comte sighed inwardly, not sure how to proceed. It was so difficult to talk to Magda about Jareth. She was so… well… _fragile_ about it. He wished she could be a little stronger. But then, he reflected tiredly, she was a pawn of the Grotto queen. That must have sapped her of her strength, if she'd ever had any.

"Well, perhaps you should go to see him. It might help things."

"Things?" she asked, looking up at him.

"Yes," he said "Things."

If there was some meaning behind this, she couldn't get to it. She looked at him, and sighed

"What is it, Comte? Just _tell_ me."

"Well, you know why were sent, Magda," he said calmly "I don't know what your queen told you to do, but the instructions Tero and I received were very clear. See if he can regain control of his realm. If he can't, then you will report it, and we will intervene. I _know_ you care about him, Magda. I think he knows it to. Go see him. Just for a while. Maybe you can explain what Nico hasn't been able to."

She sat rigidly, twisting her hands in her lap. Her head _hurt_ so much. Why was Comte telling her all this? She didn't want to hear it, but…

She knew it was true.

She sighed, and her shoulders slumped.

"Alright, Comte. I'll go. But I don't think he'll listen to me. He's never… I mean, he won't be… just because he knows how… how I feel. And I think he must know about the real reason we're here."

"I think so too," Comte rumbled "But I think he should hear it, just the same."

She nodded, and got to her feet. Without another word, she began descending the stairs, not looking back at Comte as she went. He waited long enough for her to get reasonably far, and then he followed after her. He needed to find Nico. He wasn't sure how Jareth would react to Magda's news.

………………………………………………………..

Jareth sighed, and released the globe. It floated out of his palm, but he didn't have the strength the send it farther away from him. He watched the empty orb bob gently in the air, and nearly smiled. He rubbed tiredly at his eyes, and yawned. He felt fairly wretched. That Woodlander had just left after nattering at him for nearly an hour. What a fool. Who on earth did he suppose himself to be? Someone important? Ha. Shapeless moron. And he was so stiff with him now. He had been ever since he'd discovered the Goblin King sleeping at the feet of the Grotto goblin girl.

What was her name again? Oh yes, Magda.

Well, he had no energy to spare for any of them. This was unfortunately completely true. While he had recovered somewhat from his massive exertion or hauling Magda back to the castle, his powers were still not at their full potential. Well, they hadn't been at their _full_ strength for… what was it now? Six months? Two years? But he still couldn't perform the simplest of tasks. It was beyond him, for example, to send even a weightless ball floating out of the castle and away.

Sarah looked well. She always looked well. She was growing so quickly now. It was astounding. He'd forgotten how humans changed so rapidly. And she was very busy. He mourned, a little, for the loss of the girl who'd dallied in parks to recite flowery verse to the trees around her. That spark, that _light_ that had first drawn his attention was diminished. Not gone, perhaps. But… not as strong.

_Why didn't she remember him?_

He flushed, and the gently floating orb suddenly plummeted to the ground. It shattered against the hard stone floor, and sent glittered fragments shooting into the air.

The Goblin King hissed, and leapt up out of his seat. One of the shards had embedded itself in his leg. It _hurt_.

"Jareth?" someone said in the door.

"Wonderful," Jareth said, pulling off a boot so he could inspect the damage "The one thing that could make this day better. Come in."

Magda came in hesitantly. She was _always _hesitant, curse her. She'd stopped wearing that highly impractical velvet short coat, and now kept to the light linen tunics, always tucked into a long brown skirt. Sometimes she went for variety and wore a black skirt. How exciting. But, despite this, of all his visitors, he liked watching Magda the most out of all his visitors. After all, hers was the only Shape he'd discovered. He felt rather possessive of her now.

"Jareth, I came… I came to say…"

He wouldn't help her. He bent slowly, and put his mouth to the cut on his leg, sucking the shard out. It was a tiny thing, but it _hurt_. He sent a tiny touch of power into the cut to dislodge the piece, and was gratified to feel a responding shot of pain as the shard was worked free. Grinning triumphantly, he spit it out onto the floor.

"Thank you."

"I'm sorry?" Jareth said carelessly, rolling down the leg of his black breeches and rooting around under his throne for his boot.

"Thank you," Magda said, shifting uneasily from foot to foot. "For saving me."

He straightened up, and looked at her. Her skin blazed, but she met his gaze. Interesting.

"Think nothing of it," he said finally, bending again and dragging out the boot. "I couldn't very well have left you there, could I?"

"You could've," She said evenly. "But you didn't."

"Well," Jareth said, leaning against the wall as he pulled the boot back on "then I suppose I'm a grand hero. You might explain that to your Woodlander friend."

She stirred, crossing her arms across her stomach. She did that rather often, Jareth thought, grinning widely at her

"He was just concerned," she said quietly "I know he doesn't mean anything by acting… like…"

"Like he'd kill me if given the chance? As if he could." Jareth laughed derisively, eyes still on Magda.

"There's something else," Magda said quietly

"I should think so. He couldn't be so furious _just_ because I saved your life. If you ask me, I think he—"

"I wasn't talking about Nico!" she snapped

He started, and frowned at her. She was actually _frowning_ at him. My, my. What a difference a few days make. Meek Magda was somewhat _stirred_.

"I was talking about the fact that the other kingdoms will come and take the Labyrinth from you if you don't pull yourself together!"

He recoiled as if she'd slapped him.

"What did you say?" he asked through gritted teeth

She stammered something under her breath, obviously having lost her brief loan of a spine.

"I _asked_ you," He said slowly, carefully maneuvering his was around the mess on the floor until he stood mere feet away from her "What. Did you. Say?"

"You know it's true," she mumbled, not meeting his eyes. "You know that they'll want this place. It's so close to the Aboveground, and it's full of the old magic. Did you think that they'd let it rot? You are a king," she said suddenly, looking up at him "and you have to behave like one. She isn't coming back, Jareth. Let her go."

He looked down at her expressionlessly. Her face was open, and in it he saw fear, despair, worry, and… hope.

"Get out." He said softly, his lip curling only slightly

"What?" she said, uneasily

"I said," he growled "get out. Get out of my throne room, and go scurry back to the dark hole you crawled out of. Go back to your filthy queen, or go rut with your filthy Woodlander. I don't care. But _don't_," he said, stepping closer to her "_don't _stand before me and _presume_ that you're able to talk about me _or_ her. You are _nothing._ Now, get out."

She didn't need further instructions. She spun around, and fled. She saw Nico standing outside the door, felt his concern, saw him reach for her, but she tore past him, running as far as she could from the fierce pain throbbing in her stomach.

**A/N: yay! more fighting and angst! and Magda grows a spine! for a while, anyways. The action is going to pick up soon. Things are gonna get hairy, and fast. hee hee hee. i can't wait! Sorry for the roughness of the chapter, but I just wanted to get it OUT! **


	7. Chapter 7

**Disclaimer: Insert witty reminder that I own absolutely nothing here.**

…………………………………………………

…………………………………………………

1Sarah was dreaming. There was light all around her, and she was clasped tightly in someone's arms. Her face was pressed against his shoulder, and she couldn't even see his face. All she could feel were his arms tight around her waist, and the feel of his shirt under her hands. They were spinning around and around, and she could hear ghostly music that sounded… _so_ familiar.

"I don't have much time, or power," the strong voice of the man holding her said. "So this'll have to do. Why did you forget me, Sarah?" His voice was… she _knew_ it. She knew it very well, but she didn't know from _where._

"I didn't mean to," she said, trying to push herself away from him so she could see his face "I—I don't even—Well, I don't _remember_ forgetting you."

"What amazing reasoning." he said dryly, and they stopped spinning. People surrounded them, but the sounds of their conversation were muted, as if they'd been turned down low with some strange dream volume control. Where were they? Some sort of party, or a meeting?

When he spoke again, his voice was low and sad. "Sarah, I offered you _everything_ I had. I was willing _and_ able to grant you all that you longed for, and you rejected me utterly. Not only that, but I got the distinct impression that you weren't even _listening_ to me. Maybe you were justified in doing so. Maybe I treated you badly. But you took with you more than I can allow. And I want that _back._ Do you understand?"

"No. I don't," Sarah said. She'd given up trying to push him away. "Explain it to me." His jacket was soft blue velvet, and his chest rose and fell slightly with his breath. She could feel his heart beating through her palm. It wasn't… _right, _somehow. The beats were slightly irregular, and they seemed to be… too fast. He seemed composed, but his heart was _racing. _ And he smelled… he smelled vaguely like pipe smoke, and like mint. Somewhat sweet, and almost sharp. If glitter had a smell, she thought, it would smell like him.

He sighed, arms tightening around her. "You fled, and I was left alone in my moldering room, in an empty castle, in a crumbling kingdom. Everything seemed… less important. How important could it be, to rule over a disgusting mess when _you_ didn't find it enough of a temptation to stay with me? All the enjoyment I'd once had in everything was less _full_. Eventually, I felt that there was no point to it. You stole it all from me, Sarah. But maybe I could have let that go, and could have continued as I had been before you. If only you'd at least remembered that you'd done it at all."

"How long ago was this?" she asked. His hair was long and white-blonde, she noticed. Strands of it fell over his shoulder and tickled her nose.

"Hmm… how long was it?" His right hand moved from holding her across the waist to cradle the back of her head. They began to sway again, but very slowly. "Two years," he said finally. "It was two years ago. And you _will_ remember, Sarah. I won't _allow_ you to forget me, do you understand?"

Sarah said nothing. Something was tickling at the edge of her mind, calling for her attention. Why was she thinking of Toby at a time like this? It was like she was remembering old thoughts… but they weren't thoughts she'd ever had. She'd never _been_ here, had she?

Had she?

With new strength, she pushed at him, freeing herself from his arms. She looked up, determined to see his face, but he had vanished, obscured by the darkness that killed the ballroom and covered her face.

And she woke up. Panting and sweating, she woke up in bed, at home.

_Two years ago._

She'd been fifteen then. She remembered being fifteen. She'd been such a crazy kid. Dreaming all the time, playing stupid games and mooning after fictional characters. She'd had a scrapbook then, right? Was that the one with all the stories about her mom? Probably. It was the sort of thing fifteen-year-old Sarah would put together. Where had she left it? She'd have to—

She realized that she wasn't alone in her room. There was someone standing at the door, watching her.

Sarah sat up and scrabbled backwards, gaping at the intruder. It was a woman. She was tall, and her clothes and hair looked… unreal. There was something… _not right_ in everything about her. Sarah knew, without knowing _how_ she knew, that this woman wasn't totally human.

She was breathing heavily, Sarah saw, and wasn't just _leaning_ on the door. She was being _held up_ by it.

Something about this woman was so familiar... was it her eyes? They were thin, and slanted. And they reminded her of… of someone. _Who?_

"Who _are_ you?" the woman asked. Her outlandish eyes were narrowed in pain or anger, and she held her stomach so tightly that Sarah thought that she might throw up. Sarah gaped

"Who… am _I_? I was about to ask _you_ the same thing!" she squeaked.

"Oh, I know your _name_," the woman hissed, pulling herself up off the wall and taking a step closer to the bed. Her skin was _gold,_ Sarah suddenly realized. Real gold, like the metal. It shone brightly in the darkness, almost reflecting the light from the streetlamp outside Sarah's window "But that's not who you _are_. How could it be? How could 'Sarah Williams' be _you?_ You're so… _human! _And you're just a child! How old were you then? Fifteen? _How_ could you have changed him so utterly, when you're just a human child?"

"Who… who are you?" Sarah stammered

"It doesn't matter." The woman snapped "I just came because… because I wanted…" she blinked, swayed slightly on her feet, and fell heavily to the floor.

Sarah sat in bed, staring at the place where the woman had been.

"Umm…" she said, kneeling to look over the edge of her bed at the floor "Are you alright?"

No answer from the woman.

Sarah groaned, and slid off the bed to sit beside her.

Up close, she didn't look much older than Sarah herself. _And she called _me _a child. _ Sarah thought, annoyed. _Who does she think she is, anyway?_

She hardly weighed anything, which was unnerving. It wasn't even that she was _thin, _which was somewhat true, but it was more that she was _nothing_. Looking at her, Sarah would've guessed that she'd never have been able to _drag_ her onto the bed, let alone life her up easily. She was a good head taller than Sarah was, after all, and wearing a heavy skirt and boots. But lifting her was all that Sarah had to do. And she could do it easily. A stuffed animal would've weighed more.

Sarah dropped the woman on the bed, and backed away. What was going on? Why was all this bizarre stuff happening tonight? Maybe she was still dreaming. She was almost expecting a man in a velvet jacket to spring from her closet and start waltzing around her bedroom.

The woman stirred slightly, and let out a moan. She opened her green eyes, and stared at the ceiling blankly. Then she gasped, and tried to push herself up to her elbows. This was plainly too much too fast, and she let out another moan and sank back onto the bed.

Sarah watched nervously from her spot by the door.

"Umm… are you alright?"

The woman turned to look at her, and sighed. "I'll be fine. I've never done that before. I guess it was a little too much… I wasn't ready."

"What, the screaming, or the showing up in my bedroom?" Sarah asked shakily

"Um. Both." The woman said, pushing herself (slowly) up to a seated position. She put her head in her gloved hands, and let out a deep, shuddering sigh.

"This isn't how it was supposed to happen," she muttered, screwing her eyes shut, trying to block out the plaid pattern of the flannel sheets beneath her

"What?" Sarah asked. This girl was… well, she had burst into Sarah's room, insulted her, and then collapsed dramatically and, all in all, totally screwing with Sarah's mind. And yet… she felt sorry for her. She couldn't help it.

"This wasn't how it was supposed to happen!" the woman repeated, without looking at Sarah "I was so… I was so _angry_. And I wanted… I wanted to do _something_. Something to make it alright… Something that might prove to me that I'm not—that I wasn't—"

"That you weren't what?" Sarah asked, fascinated.

The woman raised her head, and her green eyes were filled with tears.

"That I wasn't wrong to go," she whispered "That I wasn't just useless. That I wasn't—that I wasn't nothing. That he was wrong about me."

Sarah didn't reply. The woman shook her head slowly, and dropped her hands to her sides.

"I was supposed to rush in here, see you, and just _know_ what to do. Know how to make it all right. Because I _refuse_," she said suddenly, sitting up straight and looking determinedly at Sarah "I _refuse_ to let the damn thing rot."

"What damn thing?"

"The Labyrinth, of course. It's the only thing there is, really."

Sarah froze. _The Labyrinth_. She knew the word. It was a maze. Minotaurs, or creepy horror films. She knew the word. But coming from this strange, golden woman, with her inhuman eyes and her nervous breakdown, it felt… _different._ She could feel a sort of wind stirring the hair against her neck, and she could taste peaches faintly on her tongue. If she strained, she could almost imagine that she heard a few notes of a sort of lullaby.

"You're remembering," the woman said, and Sarah snapped back. The woman had moved onto her knees, and was sitting up, staring at her intently. "You haven't forgotten it all yet. You still have a bit of it in you. And it's not giving up."

"Remembering?" Sarah asked weakly. Her voice was almost pleading "I don't know _what_ I'm supposed to be remembering!"

"Do you remember what happened two years ago?"

_Two years ago…_

This couldn't be a coincidence. There was no such thing as a coincidence.

Sarah was beginning to get a sort of tingly idea that she was on the verge of some sort of epiphany. A great chasm opening behind her, one that she'd tried hard to ignore for a long time. But she was turning around, and any second now, she was going to have to face it.

… and dive in.

"I—I don't really—I was fifteen. I was a really stupid kid, and I loved—I loved _stories_."

"What kind of stories?" the woman asked gently

"Fantasy," Sarah replied instantly "Stories with magic, and adventure. And love."

"Something led you there," the woman said, getting carefully to her feet "Something told you of it, and something pulled you in. It would be small, and hard to notice. Something like a picture, or an old doll, or—"

"—or a book." Sarah said, knowing as she said it that it was true. She didn't know why, but she could feel it. The taste of peaches was stronger now.

"Really? That would be almost _too_ strong to hear. The pull would be immensely strong if it was a book… I'll see if I can find it. But Sarah—"

Sarah was pulled out of her own thoughts, and looked up into the face of the woman. She looked concerned.

"Are you sure you want to remember? You were very young, and you forgot it so completely. Are you sure that you didn't forget for a reason? Do you _want_ to go back to all this? Because if you do remember, then you'll have to. You can't continue to _be_ what you've built yourself up to be. Eventually, the mark will fade. If you really want it to."

Sarah thought. She thought about the strange dreams she'd been having for years. She thought about all the things she'd abandoned recently, because she felt that she was trying to _escape _something. She thought about how she sometimes felt that someone was trying to get her attention, and how she was almost always being watched.

She thought about owls, and about a man who held her and pressed her face into his feathery hair.

"Yes." She said, without any doubt. "Yes. I want to know. I _have_ to know, now."

The woman nodded, and smiled "Good. I'm Magda. Now, We need to find a way to get you back."

…………………………………………………

"Do you ever throw anything _away?_" Magda asked pathically, up to her elbows in cardboard boxes and knick-knacks.

"I might find a use for it, someday." Sarah said, rooting through her own box

"When will you ever use _this_?" Magda asked, holding up a stuffed dog that looked as though it'd been savaged. It was actually only _half_ a dog now.

"I might use it _eventually_!" Sarah snapped, seizing the dog and putting it lovingly into the box in front of her. "You never know."

"Monkeys," Magda murmered under her breath, and turned back to her box.

They'd been working for _hours_. Thank god it was a Saturday, and she didn't need to get up early. Sarah was tired, yes, but she was oddly energized. She felt… well, honestly, she felt like a kid again. The adventure was _happening_. And she was a _part_ of it.

"Where did you come from, Magda?"

"Why do you ask?" Magda said guardedly, holding a pair of painfully orange socks in one hand

"I'm just curious. You aren't… Well, from around here, are you?"

"Ha. No. not at all. I'm from the Underground."

_Again_ there was the strange feeling of farmiliarity. She _knew_ the word Underground. It was _familiar._ But coming from Magda, it aroused sensations that she'd never felt in connection to the word before.

"The Underground? Where's that?"

"It's… Well, it's hard to explain. In fact, it's fairly _impossible_ to explain, because it doesn't really exist, or it shouldn't. But there was some sort of… huge divide here, a long time ago. And there was a surge of extremely old and powerful charms, and they made the Underground. It lies basically under your world, but some of the more talented can pull it up so it's more… _alongside"_

Sarah had no idea what the hell she was talking about. But she liked hearing it. It was soothing to work while Magda droned on about all this stuff

"The Labyrinth," –again with the weird taste in her mouth—" was made first. Then there were others. The Grotto, the Sometime, and the Woodlands. They're all different places, and they have different… um. _Rules._ I serve the Queen of the Grottoes."

"Why?" Sarah asked "Why her?"

Magda stopped digging, and sat back on her heels.

"I don't know," she said finally "I've been in the Grotto ever since I can remember. And she's always been my _reason_." This wasn't really _true_. Suddenly there were a whole variety of _reasons_ springing out at her. The Queen, far away and silent, was almost the least of them. Almost. She was still the Queen, after all.

There was no feeling when Magda spoke of the other kingdoms, Sarah thought to herself, hauling another box towards her. Only when she talked about the Labyrinth. This was… right. It made sense.

She was opening her mouth to say something else, when she suddenly froze. Slowly, she looked down at the thing she'd just touched. Her fingertips were resting on the front cover of a thin, red, leather-bound book. The title was partly obscured by her hand, but it glimmered in the thin light from outside. She knew, without seeing it, what the title was.

_The Labyrinth_.

She sucked in a deep, shuddering breath of air, and closed her eyes.

Magda leaned over her to look at the book. She touched it gently with one finger, and winced. She pulled her hand back as if it'd been burned.

"That's it," she said softly "There's no way it could be anything else. But it's so strong… almost _too_ strong. How could you…?"

But Sarah had stopped listening. She was running a finger over the thin volume's cover, tracing the letter of the title over and over again.

_Labyrinth. Labyrinth. Labyrinth._

It was _there_. She could _feel_ it all there, just out of her reach. All the memories, all the answers, they'd all be laid out before her, if she could only reach them.

She turned to the last page, and read the very last line printed there

"_You have no power over me"_

And Sarah Williams, two years after she'd left the Labyrinth, remembered.


	8. Chapter 8

**Disclaimer: I own nothing! Read! And review, too. I want to know what you guys are thinking about this!**

…………………………………………………

…………………………………………………

………………………………………………..

Tero and Comte had left him.

He made them nervous, and he was sorry for it. But, curse it, no matter _how_ hard he tried, he just couldn't banish this mood.

She'd just pushed him away. She'd barely even _glanced_ at him, and she'd pushed him away.

The look on her face…

She was in so much pain, and he hadn't the slightest idea how to ease it for her. He was powerless. Shapeless. A no-good, ignorant, Woodlander.

He looked down at his hands, hanging limply between his knees. They were bare, the brown skin weathered and beaten. He'd lived outside his entire life, and his hands reflected that. Every mark on them, every line, every scar, was open to the observer. There were none of the elaborate marks that told of a Shape, or of a special power. They were naked. Exposed. Not even _needing_ gloves, the most rudimentary part of High Goblin attire.

Nico curled his hands into fists, and looked away from them.

It was his fault. He shouldn't have come here at all. But… but… he'd _wanted_ to. He'd _begged_ the Twelve, even going so far as to personally plea with each member before he stood in front of the council as a whole. At the time, hearing them formally accept him as the emissary, he'd found it only briefly curious that they'd all looked at him with the same expression as the herald read out their decision.

Now he knew what that expression had been.

It was pity.

And he couldn't take his rage out on the Goblin King anymore. It was clear to him that Jareth was near to insane. He'd never heard of him lashing out like that before. It was more his style to become dangerously smooth when angered. He never struck another, simply because he was clever enough to know how to hurt them in _other_ ways.

This was the way the King of the Labyrinth usually was. It was the way Jareth's father had been, before he'd gone mad and begun chasing after his subjects with a battle-axe.

Perhaps Jareth was going the same way, Nico thought with a sigh. Like father, like son.

No.

He had to believe in Jareth's sanity. Because if he was going mad… then the other kingdoms would leap upon him like the wolves that they were.

And only Nico knew what would happen then.

He knew because he'd been there the first time.

Over three thousand years ago.

_He would not be useless_.

Not this time. This time, he would find a way to help her. He would find a way to erase that pain. Even if it meant betraying the blood that filled him, and going against his own beliefs. He would do it. For her.

And he knew where he had to start.

………………………………………

………………………………………

Tero was fiercely pacing in the front hall. His red hair bristled and cracked, and his vest had come unbuttoned to flap around his elbows as he whirled his arms over his head.

Comte sat on the second step behind him, leaning back against the banister. His body was relaxed; his hands open on his thighs, his head tipped back to stare at the ceiling. But he shot sharp glances at Tero every other moment, and his face was rigid with the effort of not showing _any_ uneasiness.

"Where _is_ she, dammit?" Tero fretted, pacing. "She's _vanished_! Not in her room; not in the castle... But we'd have _known _if she'd left! We'd have _seen _her!"

"I know," Comte said.

"What did Jareth say to her? I've known Magda ever since she started living in the Grotto court, and I've _never_ seen her like that! She can't have said anything to _provoke_ him. She's not the bravest girl, really."

"I know," Come said, closing his eyes momentarily.

"What's _wrong_ with him? Doesn't he know we're here to help him? Doesn't he even have an idea what'll happen to this place if he doesn't pull himself together? He _has_ to know how much the Queen wants the Labyrinth for her own. He's fought with her about it before! He _has_ to know that _she_ won't have forgotten, at any rate. And that she will certainly take advantage of any display of weakness on his part!"

"I know," Comte said heavily, pushing himself up to sit facing Tero, who was still whirling around the hallway, his arms an agitated blur.

"Something is coming," Tero said fretfully, pausing before the door and wringing his gloved hands together "It smells like war here. A war like we haven't had in centuries. I don't know where it's coming from, or who will start it, but it's coming. It's suffocating this place. The choking feel of it is _everywhere_."

"I know," Comte said, as Tero came to sit on the step next to him.

"I don't want to be here anymore, Comte," Tero whispered, resting his head on Comte's knee. "I'm frightened."

"I know," Comte said softly, running a hand over Tero's hair and looking out at the dusty Labyrinth.

"I know."

……………………………………………….

……………………………………………….

Jareth slowly rolled over, trying to keep from moving his head any more than he had to.

Oh, _hells_.

This was worse than when he had saved that Grotto girl. This was worse than _any_ of the incredibly stupid things he'd done with his power. This was _pain_, crawling around inside his head and shooting out to every part of his body.

He could actually _hear_ his bones shifting.

Was this _humanity_? How perfect, he thought dully, to become a monkey at a time like this.

He ached all over. He was spent. Utterly, completely spent. He knew without even trying to test it. He was an empty vehicle.

But it had been worth it.

Jareth grinned, and closed his eyes.

It had _certainly_ been worth it.

_Sarah_.

He had talked to her. He had held her. And she had talked to _him_.

Well, not _actually_. Dreams were all he had been able to use. But even if it hadn't been exactly real, it was… good. Very good. It had been very _good_ to see her again.

The grin faded, and he stared up at the ceiling, frowning.

But she still didn't remember.

How was that _possible?_ For her to just… to completely change _everything¸_ and then just return to her life and forget it all? It wasn't fair. It wasn't what was _supposed_ to happen.

"You know, for all your ideas and big words, you're still so attached to your rules, Jareth."

Jareth looked up sharply, and then sighed, pressing a hand over his eyes

"Well, well, milady," he said calmly to the empty room, "This is a pleasant surprise. And to what do I owe the honor?"

"I'm just checking up on you, Jareth," the voice said pleasantly. It was a sweet, light voice. It positively _radiated_ cheerful kindness. Every syllable it spoke dripped with innocence and happiness. It was precisely the kind of voice Jareth never trusted. "It's been so _long_ since we've seen each other, you know. Why don't you come to the mirror where I can see you properly?"

"I'm afraid that's impossible," Jareth said lightly, craning his neck to make sure that his mirror was angled so that the bed was invisible. It still was. But Jareth didn't allow himself to relax. This could not be good. "I'm a little occupied at the moment. Important jobs, projects. You know how it can be."

"Oh, of course!" The voice laughed, "And how is my little girl? Has she been good to you, Jareth?"

"You mean Magda?" Jareth flushed, and scowled "Oh, yes. She's out in the kingdom now, I think. Exploring. She seems to like it here."

"It's not the _place_ she likes, Jareth. You should know that," the voice chided happily "A goblin of your stature should be able to _tell_ what would draw a young one to a place like your Labyrinth."

Jareth scoffed, and got to his feet, looking around for a pair of gloves.

"Why did you send her specifically, if I may ask, milady?" Jareth said casually, clutching his aching head as he walked, carefully making sure that he never came in view of the mirror

"She wanted to see you _so_ badly," the voice said softly, with a real echo of sadness in it "She was _most_ troubled by the news of your collapse. And she still remembered you from the last time you came to my Grotto. Even though she was such a little thing then. You made quite an impression on her, though I'm sure you must now be quite used to that sort of thing. The Labyrinth isn't what holds the appeal for her. "

Jareth's scowl deepened. Was this all she wanted to talk to him about? Dangling her servant girl before him like a piece of meat… was she _insane_?

"After all," the voice from the mirror went on "It isn't exactly a paradise, is it?"

"And yet, you do want it so badly," Jareth said, massaging his right temple and grimacing "For all that it's so _dirty_."

"Do we have to talk about that, Jareth? It's such an _unpleasant_ topic. And you always get _so_ heated about it."

"It's my kingdom," Jareth said, unable to keep the snarl out of his voice any longer

"No one is saying that it isn't," the voice laughed, "But you need not be _chained_ to it. Think about it, Jareth…. Think… about all the things you could do if you didn't have the Labyrinth to hold you back," the voice took on a lower, soothing tone. Jareth could _feel_ her words winding tightly around him.

"… Think," she murmured, "Of the people you could go to… people you could see again. Do you know who I'm talking about, Jareth?"

Jareth didn't reply. He was too busy trying to draw up some ragged defense against her words. But he was so spent…

"Of _course_ you know," the Grotto queen purred, "That human girl of yours… what would stop you from going to her if you were free of your position? No land to tend, no subjects to command… just you, and her, and a whole future of possibility…"

"That's _enough,"_ Jareth barked, wrenching himself away from her tempting ideas with an effort that almost felt like a physical action. Maybe it was.

"No more of this."

"I was just thinking aloud, Jareth," she said, again light and happy, "I'm always thinking of you, you know that. But should you reconsider, please do speak to me first. Won't you let me see you before you go?"

Jareth shook his head, leaning against the wall and closing his eyes "Good bye, Milady."

There was a slight pause. And then she laughed, a sweet chiming sound that somehow seemed to carry some sort of _threat_ with it.

"Take care, Jareth."

The last sensation of being bound faded with her. Jareth breathed deeply, sinking down to sit on the floor with his head on his knees.

She had been right. Magda had been right, cats curse her.

Jareth rubbed at his face with his bare hands, and then held them before him. The white feathered patterns glimmered and shifted in the light, as if real feathers actually sprouted from his hands. His sharp black fingernails sparkled, though the light from outside was really too dim for them to be able to do so _that_ brightly.

This meeting meant trouble. The Queen had played a desperate card, and it was not in her nature to be desperate. Flighty, yes. Thoughtless, yes. But never desperate. For all her ways, she was _forever_ in control. Something was coming, and soon. He had managed to ward off her beguiling gift, but that would only incite her to some grander action…

But where would she strike first? It wouldn't be at him. That wasn't her way.

He needed to find out. And he was running out of time.

……………………………………………………….

……………………………………………………….

Magda pulled the blanket around the girl's shoulders, and awkwardly tried to shift her into a more comfortable position.

Sarah stared, looking fixedly at the red book she held in her hands.

She hadn't moved in two hours.

She hadn't blinked either.

And Magda was stuck.

She'd tried to leave and get help. Someone back at the Labyrinth had to know how to deal with something like this. But… she was empty. Utterly, utterly depleted. She had forced all her power and energy into pulling her body Aboveground.

And now she had nothing left.

She flexed her fingers experimentally, trying to feel the strands of magic that usually trailed invisibly from her fingers.

Nothing.

She shivered, and wrapped her arms around her knees.

She had to wait for the human girl to come out. If she did, they would need to get away from this house. It would be morning soon, and her family would probably find it odd that she was sitting as though paralyzed in the middle of her floor, not to mention the presence of Magda with her.

And… the book had released an enormous burst of power when Sarah had opened it. If someone was looking for them… then there was a magical beacon hovering over this house, glowing brightly for anyone who knew how to see it.

And someone _was_ looking for it. Magda could almost _feel_ them. They were getting closer.

"Magda?"

Magda's head shot up, and she quickly lifted her pendant, staring into the brown gem in the center. A richly tanned face made up entirely of sharp angles and wide brown eyes smiled disarmlingly up at her. The Grotto Queen's eyes sparkled, and her grin widened. Her teeth _weren't_ pointed. They gave off a very _definite _feel of _not_ being pointed. They were almost convincing.

"Madame," Magda whispered, feeling suddenly winded, "How… how are you?"

"Well enough," the Queen smiled, her voice soothing Magda, as it always did "But I wanted to talk to you about something important, Magda. I have a job for you to do…"

…………………………………….

……………………………………..

It had taken Nico a moment to gather all that he needed from his room and the castle.

And the book. He always kept it with him, for all that he had believed that he would _never _use it.

Well.

Something just had to be done, that was all. There was nothing to feel ashamed of. Nothing to fret over. He had been _born_ for this. In fact, he had been _repeatedly_ born for this.

He ran up the last flight of stairs, pausing at the entrance to the long hallway.

He looked over to his left. The door was slightly ajar, offering a sliver of a couch, a desk, and a window.

Her room.

_I will not be useless_.

He ripped his gaze away from Magda's room, and stalked down the hallway.

He stopped before the useless door. Rough yellow stone, without a hinge or a knob. It wouldn't open. It was just a continuation of the wall. Another one of the castle's tricks.

_It will open for me._

He sat, and withdrew a battered and ancient book from his bag. He laid it tenderly on the ground before him, and opened it.

And he began.


	9. Chapter 9

**Disclaimer: not mine, not mine, not mine! Stop asking me! Sheesh. Well, the least you can do is review. Don't make me beg. **

………………………………

Sarah was running down a stone passage… she was racing through a veil of glitter and leaves… she was following a shaggy red monster… or a surly dwarf… or was it a fox knight?

_It's happening too fast_, she thought, _Please, I can't handle this much all at once… make it stop…_

But it didn't. _flick-flick-flick_, Images, memories, and feelings flashed _though_ her, exactly as they had when she'd first felt them.

And she had felt them before. As she went, she knew more and more of the truth of what had happened two years ago…

There was so _much_. How had she forced it all away? So _much_.

And he was everywhere. Taunting her, tempting her, and always watching. She knew him now, knew his feathery hair and inexplicable eyes, knew his sneer and his walk. She'd feared him then. The villain of the story, the evil one controlling it all. She feared him now too. But more because he seemed to be on her side, and she had never suspected.

There was the Bog, and Hoggle (oh, Hoggle), and Ludo with Sir Diddymus, and then the mind burning stair room that had sprung straight out of an Escher painting. And he was there, and so was… Toby? Yes, it was Toby. As a little baby, when he had been a crying, screaming blob. He _had_ been different after that, she remembered suddenly. More watchful… more… more… more like _him._

Then the end, with the powerful words and the floating white robes of the King. She fell into the darkness, and was in her room again. Back home. How long after that had she forgotten?

She sat alone in the black, mind tingling with all the information pressing against it.

_Well, you took your time, didn't you?_

Sarah looked up, searching in the darkness for the source of the voice. It had been cool and remote, polished to a sharp point.

_So, now we've got her, what we gonna do wit' her?_ This voice was rougher, so low that it felt like a rumble.

_We don't '_got'_ her yet,_ the first voice said sharply. _We've only just gotten her to _remember_. That's hardly having her. _

_But it's somethin'. _

_Yes,_ the first voice agreed, _It is. _

"Who are you?' Sarah whispered

_You know us pretty well_, the rough voice said, _But you never seen us like this. Only one who's seen us like this b'fore. And we're losin' him fast._

"The… the King?"

_You still don't know his name?_ The cool voice asked

"Not… not yet."

_Ah, well, that isn't too shocking,_ the cool voice said slowly, _It could be because he was the main player in your little melodrama. Or because he never touched you. _

"Touched me?" Sarah asked, frowning. "But at the dance…"

_It weren't all that _realthe rumble said. _It were somethin' he had us fix for him. So he could get you to stay._

_What a child, _the cool voice sniffed, _Almost a century old, and he _still_ has no idea how these things are done. _

_He did what he thought were right,_ the other growled, _It ain't our place to fault 'im for that._

_Maybe not. But what we _mean _is that it doesn't count as touching. Face to face, on even ground, he never touched you. _

_The dance was his territory,_ the rough voice added, _So the rules were 'is. 'e's fond of rules, for all tha' the Labyrinth is the wildest of all lands._

_If he had touched you in the Labyrinth,_ the cool voice interrupted, _It's probable that you would have stayed. We didn't tell him this, because we couldn't, but it's also probable that he knew. Which is also interesting. If he knew, wouldn't he wish for you to stay?_

'_E's almost a century old,_ the rougher voice chuckled, _but fer tha', he still don't know what he wants. _

_Didn't know,_ the cool voice corrected. _He seems to know now. _

_Yeah. _

Sarah groaned, and rubbed her face wearily. Her head was starting to pound. "What is this? Who are you? Why does _everyone_ I meet talk in _riddles?_"

_You know us,_ the voices said together. They sounded like they were grinning.

_We're just helpin' you with the rememberin',_ Rough Voice said, _An' waitin fer her to show up. _

"Her?" Sarah asked

_Yes. The Priest's gone to unlock her. She's been hidden away for a long time, but she's being set loose now. He's cracked, a little. Interesting that the five hundredth reincarnation would be the one to do what the others didn't dare to._

_It's 'cuz 'e's in love_, said the rumble

_You're so crude. I wonder that I can stand to speak to you_.

"Do I have to go back now?" Sarah asked, heart sinking "Do I have to go back and help? He said… he said that I had to give something back to him. What is it?"

_It's not to us to tell you,_ said the cool voice, _It's his affair, and his heart, such as it is. But whether you go back or not is up to… well, it isn't to us anymore. _

_Wi' luck, it won't come to the Labyrinth. Wi' luck, it'll stay Aboveground. _

"Aboveground? Why Aboveground?"

_Because that's where you are, o' course,_ The rumble chuckled, _You still ha'en't given yoursel' enough credit. That somethin' you have… He needs it. He needs it to defend wha' he wants the most._

_That's enough!_ The cool voice snapped _We can't tell her—_

_I know…_ the rumble said sadly, _But I don' want things to go too wrong._

_Stop it. He's nearly there. _

**(Nico sat before the door. It looked like it would be simple to open, but, typical to this contrary castle and kingdom, it wasn't what it appeared)**

_This soon?_ The rumble said, sounding surprised

_He's reached the edge now, _the cool voice commented, _He's terrified, though. Can you feel his heart beating?_ And it laughed.

**(It looked like it was carved into the wall like a statue. A statue of a door. What use was there for a door that wouldn't open?**

**_A world of uses, _Nico thought grimly, and set the bag down on the stone floor)**

"Who is he?" Sarah asked, seeing Nico squat on the floor and pull out a bundle of candles

'_E's The Priest. The five hundredth Priest. Magda knows him,_ the rumble said

_Well, she _thinks _she does. She's very dense, for all her blood, _the cool voice sneered

_Or 'cuz of it._

_True enough. _

**(Nico held the charcoal in one hand, and the candles in the other. Breathing evenly, he moved slowly, making a small mark, then erasing it only to redraw it in the same spot. He placed candles at seemingly random locations. Some fell over, and he left them where they lay)**

"What is he doing?" Sarah asked

_Lettin' her out. She'll be happy. She's been trapped in there fer a long time._

"Why was she trapped?"

_Because she wanted to stay. But she couldn't. It always ends. Your folk have to wake up eventually, _The cool voice said softly, _So she tied herself in. It's a sad, sad mistake. _

"How long has she been in there?"

_Time… _the rumble paused. _It's not exactly _true_. Not in the Labyrinth, anyways. She were alive properly before the last King went mad. But… there's always been one like her, who'd stay. _

'_She' is almost like a mass of consciousness. And power, _the cool voice said,_ decidedly powerful. Even when she was alive, she had no power. But now that she's been trapped, she's bound up with everything. There has always been one like her._

_We ain't the same wi'out her,_ the rumble whispered, _She's a part o' us, an' we miss her. _

**(Now the entire patch of floor in front of the sculpted door was covered in black dots, lines, and circles. The one blank shape contained Nico, carefully reaching out to light the candle farthest away from the door.**

**He was panting, and drops of sweat fell onto the floor, blurring some of the marks. Strands of long black hair had come free of their rough ponytail, and hung around his face.)**

"He looks so tired," Sarah said softly.

_He's never done this before. As long as there's been a Priest, _no one_ has freed Her. _

_They wouldn' even ha' tried it,_ the rumble agreed.

**(Nico finished lighting the candles, and pulled himself into the center of the square.**

**Had he forgotten anything? He looked around, at candles, charcoal marks, and door. It was all there. He glanced at the book one more time, and nodded to himself. **

**Shaking and sweating with the effort of keeping it all together, he closed his eyes, and took one deep breath before beginning)**

_Good…_ the rumble murmured, _Good. She'll be out, an' it'll all turn out alright._

_Not yet_, the cool voice said harshly, _Don't celebrate just yet. He's not ready yet. Listen to his mind! He doesn't know _what_ he wants to do just now. _

**(Nico felt it wrap around his fingers as soon as he spread them out towards the door. He spoke the first word, and it tightened, spiraling around him and wrapping up his hands and wrists**

**He kept his eyes closed. He didn't want to see that swirl of power. And he wanted even less to open his eyes and see that it was all in his imagination.**

**_Think of her_. **

**He gritted his teeth, keeping his jaw from locking only with a tremendous effort. The swirls wrapped around his elbows and forearms and then abruptly stretched tight, yanking his arms out away from him and holding them there at joint-cracking angles. **

_**Think of her hair.**_

**Nico bit his tongue, and tasted blood. But he kept talking. **

_**Think of her smile. **_

**He could feel the words come to life as he uttered them. He could feel them ignite as soon as they passed his lips. **

_**Think of her skin.**_

**Something was trickling down his chin. Blood, or sweat. Possibly tears. They _hurt_ him. Oh _God, _ how they _hurt_.)**

Sarah watched, horrified. Her view of the man blurred and flickered. What was he doing? Shouldn't they stop him? He was going to kill himself, doing this!

_Calm down,_ the rumble said dully _It's hard t' see, but he has t' do it. He can't back out now. That'd kill him fer sure. _

_And it must be done_, the cold voice said, _It must be done, and he has to do it_

**(He was halfway done. **

**The candle flames sprang to life, shooting up into the stale air and singing the stone ceiling. Their light pressed against Nico's eyes, but he had to keep them closed. He knew that if he opened them to look at what he was doing, all the ideas he'd had about himself would force him to stop. **

_**Think only of her. **_

**And he wouldn't stop. **

"**I… will not…" he groaned, shaking all over with his arms stretched out before him like a scarecrow's "… be useless!"**

**The swirls screamed around him, lashing against his arms, legs, and face. **

_**Magda…**_

**No. He would do this. **

**He choked out the final verse, his own throat trying to close against it.)**

_And it was done. _

**(Nico's arms dropped to the floor, and he opened his eyes. **

**The hallways was silent again. The swirls had vanished. The charcoal marks on the floor were blurred and scattered. All the candles had burned out.**

**The sun winked across at the crumpled figure on the floor, casting long yellow shadows across his smooth skin; his closed eyes. **

**He let out a rough sound. It might have been a sigh. Or maybe it was a sob. **

"**What?" he croaked, his tongue throbbing "What?"**

**He shuffled forward, raising his hands to the door before him.**

**Smooth yellow stone. Uncarved face, shining knob. **

**It looked exactly the same. **

**The spell had failed**

"**_What did I do wrong?" _ He howled, slamming his fists to the ground, and staring wide-eyed at the floor "_What did I forget?"_ **

**Tears streamed down his face, leaving tracks in the sweat and dirt that caked his cheeks.**

"**_What do you want me to do?"_ He sobbed, roaring down at the floor "_Why can't I be of any use? What did I do wrong?"_)**

Sarah blinked, and touched a hand to her face. She was crying.

The voices were silent, but she felt them near her.

"It…" her voice faltered, and she cleared her throat "It didn't work."

_But… But…_ the cool voice said _But… why?_

_He was right,_ the rumble said quietly, _The time was right. What happened?_

There was silence. The image of the sobbing man flickered one last time, and then vanished. All was darkness again.

_We need t' get her back,_ the rumble said, _for it not to have worked… it means trouble. We need t' get her back. We can give her somfin. She'll need all th' help she can get. _

_We were so close…_ the cool voice murmured, sounding utterly crushed, _So close…_

……………………………….

……………………………….

Nico collapsed, too tired to cry anymore.

_I was wrong_, he though hollowly, _I was wrong to do it. I wasn't supposed to. I'm not meant to be a heroic character. I can't save her._

_Useless. I'm useless._

He closed his lightless eyes, and curled his ungloved hands into fists.

"Oh, are you alright?"

Nico looked up, blearily focusing on the glimmering shape before him. It was a goblin woman, though she was short for their race. Her flickering face was all warmth and kindness, even though it did seem to have rather more _edges_ than a normal face was supposed to have. She did have the most amazing brown eyes…

"You're her Queen," Nico rasped, "The Queen of the Grottos."

"Oh, you remember me!" the apparition clasped her hands together, and smiled at him "I'm so glad, Nico! And how lucky that I should find you first!"

Nico said nothing. He stared at her with hollow eyes, trying to remind himself to blink.

"I was so excited to finally be able to send _some_ seeming of myself here," she went on happily, "But I quite forgot to fix on a location! How human of me! I thought I'd have to wander for _ages_! What a relief!"

Nico pushed himself up onto his knees with a tremendous effort. Did his body usually feel like it was filled with mud?

"But I do have a favor to ask of you, Nico."

"Now really isn't the best time," Nico said dully.

"Well, I suppose it isn't," the Queen said happily, "But will you hear me out anyway? I will reward you for your services."

"With what?" Nico growled, frowning up at her. "What riches could you possibly tempt me with?"

"Think, Woodlander. What do I possess that you desire?"

Nico opened his mouth to speak, and then his eyes widened. He shut his mouth.

The Queen smiled

_Did she…_

Nico slowly rubbed a dirty hand across his bloodstained mouth and looked intently at her

"You… do you mean…?"

"She is mine, after all," the Queen said softly, looking into Nico's face with a loving expression, "She won't go _anywhere_ without my permission. But I could make her a_ gift_ to you… and you could take her away from _everything_ that would hurt her here."

Nico licked his lips thoughtfully, and looked at her. He _wanted_ to suspect her of trickery. He _knew_ she was capable of it. But… but…

"What do I have to do?" he asked

Her grin widened, showing not-at-all-pointed teeth. "I'm sure it'll be simple work for you. I want you to bring the Underground… up to the Aboveground. And make it so I can get there."

………………………………………

………………………………………

Sarah hit her body with such a force that she jerked back and hit her head on the wall behind her.

"Oww…" she moaned, dropping the red book and rubbing at the back of her head.

Then she moaned again, and stretched her aching limbs.

Magda was huddled on the floor, chin on her knees, apparently sleeping.

Sarah got to her feet stiffly, and went over to her

"Magda… Magda. I'm back," she said softly, shaking the goblin woman by the shoulder. Her skin was a duller gold than it had been. Did that happen often? That was weird.

Magda jerked, and blinked dully. Then her head snapped up, eyes fixing on Sarah

"You're back! And… and do you…"

"Yes!" Sarah said, smiling "I remember everything. But listen, Magda, I have something to tell—what's wrong?"

Magda's smile had vanished, and she looked… well, she looked _disappointed_ to hear that Sarah had her memory of the Labyrinth back. But… but wasn't that what Magda had come to her house for?

"Why are you still here, anyway?" Sarah asked worriedly, "Did you wait for me the entire time?"

"I would have gone," Magda said dully, not meeting Sarah's eyes, "But I think I… umm… emptied out."

She flexed her fingers in front of her, and nodded. "Yes. Definitely still out."

She seemed cheered by this.

Sarah looked down at Magda, and nodded to herself. She _knew_ what she had to do.

"Here," she said, resting a hand on Magda's head, "You can have it back."

And power surged from the girl's hand into Magda, sending the goblin slamming back into the floorboards. Sarah thought she heard them crack.

"I'm so sorry!" she wailed, kneeling next to Magda "I should have warned you! Oh, are you okay?"

Magda pushed herself up onto her elbows, and stared wide-eyed at Sarah.

Then she looked down at her gloved hands, and twitched them experimentally

"You brought it back," she said dully, looking at Sarah with a strange, stifled look in her eyes

"Yes, I did," Sarah said, no longer smiling. What was wrong with her? "I'm sorry. I should have warned you first."

"No, Sarah," Magda said, getting to her feet and looking down at Sarah "_I'm_ sorry."

Then she gripped Sarah's arm, and _yanked_.

And the world froze.

………………………….

…………………………..

Nico sat in the hallway, still within his charcoal space. He tried not to think about his failure. This was another way… a _better_ way. He could really help Magda. And… and they could…

_Think of her…_

He finished the link to the Aboveground with his right hand as he finished the link to the Grottoes with his left. He held the ends of them pinched between his fingers, waiting for the right moment to join them together.

_Now_

He brought his hands together, pressing the threads of the worlds into the hallway.

And it opened.

A spreading ring of blue light opened in the air before him, and expanded to touch the walls and ceiling.

On his other side, an identical circle of orange light, pulsating gently in the dim sunlight that filled the hall. Nico looked up at it, smiling slightly, too tired to stand.

Through the circle stepped the Queen.

Not an apparition, not a reflection in a mirror or a pendant. The Queen of the Grottoes, standing in the castle at the center of the Labyrinth.

And she _liked_ it.

She looked around at the hallway, taking in the window at the end, the door beside her, and Nico at her feet.

Her nostrils flared as she sucked in the scent of the Labyrinth.

And she grinned.

"How long do I have?" she asked Nico, still grinning up at the ceiling.

"A few hours," Nico said hoarsely "Maybe a day. It'll stay open by itself"

_Think of her…_

"You don't even need to stay connected to it?" the Queen said cheerfully, turning her enormous brown eyes on him. "That's very impressive. Very, very good work."

She moved so quickly that Nico didn't even twitch.

He just looked at his left shoulder.

There was a moment. It seemed like a lifetime. But it was really just a moment.

And when it was done, his shoulder erupted, spurting blood into his face and onto the floor. Without a sound, Nico fell forward heavily, twitched once, and lay still.

The Queen grinned again, and her claws retracted into her gloved fingers, leaving not even a tear in the fine fabric.

"All is going _very_ well," she said happily to the legion of Grotto warriors standing behind her, "Soon everything will be perfectly in place! Only a few more moments like this…"

She stepped over Nico's body, and into the circle of orange light.


	10. Chapter 10

**Disclaimer: Nope, none of the Labyrinth is mine. Though this park is based heavily off of one by my house, I don't own that either. Sigh**

**Long chapter ahead! I hope you brought something to eat!**

…………………………………………

……………………………………………

………………………………………….

It was very, very quiet.

But it wasn't the quiet of night, or the quiet of silence. Silence was just people not making any noise, and night was never truly quiet.

This park was.

Nothing moved. Birds had frozen in mid-flight. The water of the pond looked like it had been sculpted.

There isn't much that's more unnerving than the sight of water not moving in the way that water should.

Magda released Sarah's icy arm, and looked around her at the frozen park. It was… She'd never done this before. She'd never been _able_ to. This girl… what had she put into her? Sarah was different. She even _smelt_ different. When she'd been trapped inside her own head, something had happened. She'd changed.

_Don't think about her_, Magda urged herself. _It had to be done. It's just… it's just too bad. _

The park was decidedly eerie. The time stop had washed the whole area with a pale blue tint, as though it were underwater.

Magda shivered, and felt the goosebumps rise along her exposed arms. She felt sick. She wasn't used to all this power. It didn't feel very good. And the sight of what that power had wrought made her feel even worse.

"What have I done?" she murmured to herself, her voice flat in the blank air.

"Yeah," said a shaky voice from behind her. "What _have_ you done?"

Sarah was staring at her, horror and anger in her face, shaking. She was shaking. She was_ moving_. She wasn't—she wasn't supposed to be moving.

"You're still _here?"_ Magda gasped, staring at Sarah. "You're still in time? That's not… that's not possible!"

"What's wrong with the park?" Sarah demanded, looking around. "What's wrong with the birds, and the water, and… and…" she gulped and closed her eyes, hunching down and moaning.

"You aren't frozen?" Magda asked, staring at the top of the human's head.

"Frozen?" Sarah snapped up, and stepped towards Magda, who backed up hurriedly. "Frozen? You _froze_ the park?"

"You weren't supposed to be awake for it!" Magda said, hands raised to ward off the angry teenager. "I thought I had enough power to freeze you too! I _should_ have had enough power to freeze you _and_ the park!"

Sarah looked at Magda for a frozen moment, and then she swung at her. Magda was too surprised to dodge the blow fully, and it clipped her in the shoulder. She spun with the force of the blow, and fell to the ground heavily. She yelped at the frozen strands of grass, unyielding under her weight, went through the thin fabric of her tunic and pricked at her back and arms.

"Why?" Sarah demanded, standing over Magda and trying to stop herself from shaking. "Why did you do this?"

"I didn't _want_ to!" Magda said hotly, her face flushing a dull orange. "I had to do it! I didn't think that you'd—"

"—be awake for it?" Sarah finished hotly, her face going an eerie shade of white. "And that's supposed to make it all okay?"

"Well, well," a voice said suddenly, slicing through the air to reach the two figures in the center of the park. "This is very interesting!"

The park glowed briefly orange as a glowing circle opened in the air behind Magda. Out of it stepped a woman dressed in a green dress that waved and flowed around her like water. Her skin was a clear jade green, and it gave off a very definite impression of not being at all threatening. When she smiled, revealing a bright pink mouth, Sarah was almost knocked over by the force of the idea that they weren't _at all_ pointed.

"Magda," The Queen of the Grottoes said sweetly, looking at the golden woman sprawled on the ground. "Why is the monkey girl still in motion?"

…………………………………….

………………………………….

_Wake up._

'_E's not listenin'. Be louder. _

_WAKE. UP. _

Leave me alone…

_You 'ave t' wake up._

No, I really think I don't.

_This is of vital importance!_

Really. Fantastic.

_Ha. Ha. Ha. You're so amusing, I wish I could—_

_No time fer that now! He needs to get up!_

Do you have any idea how long it's been since I slept? Let me have this peace for a while. You can invade my privacy when I'm awake and forced to deal with you.

_It's about Her!_

'_E's not sayin' anythin'_

_Wait for it…_

'Her'?

_Who do you think we mean, fool? The door's been unlocked and the Grotto Queen's got a passage through!_

What?

_Wake. UP!_

………………………………………………….

………………………………………………….

"I'm… I'm sorry, Madam," Magda murmured, eyes downcast as she hauled herself to her feet. She winced as the razor-sharp glass withdrew from the sensitive skin on be back of her arms. "She was able to resist the power, I think."

The Queen beamed at Magda, but didn't say anything. She just slowly turned her head, and stared into Sarah's face.

Sarah was suddenly very, very scared. Looking down at the woman's hands, she almost thought she saw… yes, they were there, though they flickered in and out of her vision. Long strands of silvery liquid dripping down her fingernails and vanishing before it hit the ground.

Blood.

She had blood on her hands.

Sarah suddenly shivered hard, and clutched at her head. Her face was so pale, it was almost glowing in the blue light.

The Queen laughed as Sarah fell to her knees, gasping.

"Shock," she said cheerfully, looking at the girl. "The poor girl can't handle being cut off from time, can she?" Her smile flickered briefly. "She's so _pathetic_."

Guards dressed in black and blue uniforms and carrying spears jerkily flowed out of the orange light-door, and formed a loose circle around the three women.

……………………………

…………………………..

He had to climb three staircases, slip through four rooms of insanity, and wind his way through the mirror maze. And he had to wait impatiently for a dozing redhead (What was his name? Theo?) to move his accursed _feet_ so the Goblin King could sprint up another flight of stairs.

He didn't remember any of it. His mind was churning with the images and disjointed thoughts that were pooling in his awareness. Something was wrong. Very, very wrong.

The air smelt strange, up here. What was it?

He mounted the last step, and stood at the top of a long hallway with only two doors in it, and a window on the wall opposite the staircase.

He moved carefully, trying to mark the scent. There was the definite trace of _her_; the fishy smell that marked her court filled the hall. But in the corners and the cracks was another scent…

His foot hit something, and he knew what the scent was as soon as he looked down.

It was blood. The Woodlander was lying on the floor at his feet, bleeding all over the yellow stone floor.

Not that it looked too yellow anyway. The floor was marked with charcoal and spilled wax.

What in hell's name was he doing here? Jareth though, looking at the stone door beside him.

He looked at the shapes drawn on the floor again, and he got an idea. But it wasn't an idea that he wanted to—it _couldn't_ be.

Jareth knelt, beside the Woodlander's head, and traced the line of his arm and hand until his fingers reached… A book.

A_ book?_ A voice taunted him in his head. _It's _the_ book, of course. _

"No," Jareth whispered, looking down at the coarse black hair and shabby jacket of the Woodlander. "_You're_ the priest? _You?_ It's not—not possible!"

He shivered, and rocked back onto his heels, not noticing or not caring the charcoal and blood that stained his pants and gloves.

Yes, she'd been here. There wasn't another who could cause any being to bleed this much. Jareth shivered again, and pressed a hand to his eyes, trying to keep all the fear inside him from exploding. She had _been_ here… in _his_ castle…

But she wasn't here now.

Jareth slowly dropped his hands, and looked blankly down the hallway. Yes, that was true. She wasn't here now. The smell of her was old, and it was unlikely that she would be able to get back into his castle with the Woodlander spurting blood all over it. He didn't have to do anything about it.

But why would she just pass through the Labyrinth? Why wouldn't she stay to make war on it?

Was his own cynical mind, or more unwanted advice from the pests, that thought this? Did it matter?

Why _would _the Queen stop here? She didn't come to make war, since she seemed to just flash through. And besides, that wouldn't be her way. She prefers coming at her prey from behind, robbing them of their treasure as they watch the door for her arrival, or some other scheme to that affect. How does this passing through fit into her scheme? Jareth thought, getting to his feet and looking around him desperately. What's Aboveground that she would want? What's in the Aboveground that she could use? There's nothing—

Oh. Oh no. She wouldn't, Jareth thought, his imagination supplying images of a smiling figure advancing on a young girl in a familiar house. She _wouldn't_.

Of course she would.

……………………………

………………………………

Magda watched Sarah wheeze, trying not to feel anything. She looked away, and saw her Queen smiling at her.

"Oh, Magda!" the Queen said happily, batting her eyelashes at her. "Do you _like_ this monkey? Are you two friends now? Well, then maybe you'd like to turn away. This won't be pretty," she looked at Sarah, and turned to look at the park and the guards around her. "For you, anyway."

"What?" Magda asked, worried. "What are you going to do to her?"

"Magda," the Queen laughed, looking only at the heaving Sarah. "When have I _ever_ confided in you? Do you think I'll start now?"

Magda flushed, and looked down.

Sarah spat up a huge glob a phlegm, and her choking stopped. Hanging her head, she panted heavily. Oh, but she _hurt_. And she felt so strange. It was like wires had been laid under every inch of skin, and they'd just been activated to send jets of pure force all through her body. She shook her head slowly, eyes still closed.

And then she started laughing.

The Queen's eyes narrowed, and her grin stretched even wider. The fluid movement of her dress spiked suddenly, and became a little bit frantic.

"You find something funny, monkey girl?" the Queen trilled happily, staring down at the back of Sarah's head.

"Well, yeah," Sarah rasped, pushing herself up onto her heels. She wiped her mouth with the back of one hand, and smiled up at the Queen. "You don't have any plan at all, do you? You get Magda to drag me here, you get her to stop time, and you transport yourself from… wherever you come from, and you don't even have any idea what you're going to do with me now. It's _funny_."

"Really," the Queen said quietly, her lilting voice taking on a slightly harder edge than it'd had previously. "Well, as it happens, I do have a plan for this little adventure. And having a plan has turned out to be very satisfactory. I've played it by ear for far longer than you can imagine, and now I think I might just _win_," she considered her words for a moment, and then threw her head back and laughed. "For the first time, I think."

The Queen looked hard at Sarah, her grin still in place. There was something very strange about her face. It was as though you couldn't focus on all of it at once. Try and see her lips clearly, and her right ear would blur strangely. Try and get a clear image of her ear, and her hair would wink and sputter.

"Maybe I will tell you," The Queen said softly, looking down at Sarah. "Then I can tell him exactly how you behaved before your mind snapped under the pressure of the thought of it."

…………………………………..

…………………………………..

Jareth paced. He was in no state to go anywhere. He was all out; spent; dry of _any_ power that could have helped him. He turned often to look at the body of the Woodlander behind him. Was he dead? Oh, hells, he hoped he wasn't dead. He was the Priest… the Queen had been here… and all he could think of was the girl on the other side of reality who as probably already in the clutches of an enemy she couldn't even comprehend.

_And there was nothing he could do about it._

"Help me!" he shouted to the ceiling, eyes searching the stone for some hint or clue.

There was no answer.

"_Don't_ ignore me. Don't you _dare_ ignore me. I know you're there, and I need you now!"

_Us ignore you?_ A gruff voice rumbled around him

_It's been quite the other way around, you know_. Said a cool, crisp voice.

"Don't sulk," Jareth snapped. "Come out where I can see you!"

There was a pause. And then they were there. A great behemoth of stone, all crags and point, and a tall, slender figure made of bush and twigs that swayed slightly in the breeze.

_About time,_ The craggy beast said delicately, it's polished voice ringing through the halls. _We weren't sure you'd ever come to your senses. We can't go away, you know. _

'_Least not yet, _The twiggy figure rumbled deeply, swaying to and fro lightly.

"This isn't the time for this," Jareth said through gritted teeth, looking at the pair of them. "I need your power."

_You left us, remember? _The mountain said coolly, turning its great sightless eyes on the Goblin King. _You're in no place to demand loans of us._

'_S true,_ the thin tree figure said deeply. _We ain't been in yer mind fer a long, long while. _

"But I need your help now. You _must_ know that the Queen's been in here. And she's gone through to the… to the other side. She must be going to take—to get—to steal her from me."

_Sarah_. The two said together. They were both still for a moment, watching the King.

"Yes," he said tightly. "Her. And I need to _get her back."_

_Why?_

Jareth blinked. Why? How did that even enter into it? He wouldn't allow the Queen to take Sarah because… because… because Sarah wasn't _hers. _He'd watched Sarah, he'd spoken to her and taken her into his Labyrinth. She'd left of her own volition, and he'd let her, but that didn't mean that she'd stopped being part of it.

"Why?" he repeated, looking at the two entities that made up his Labyrinth as they regarded him. Uncontrollable, strange, and paradoxical. Very like the place itself, and very like it's King, really. "Because _she's mine. _The Grotto Queen has no right to take what belongs to me! What belongs to _us!_ Help me to take her back!"

…………………………………

………………………………….

The Queen sat down on her heels, looking into Sarah's face. As she spoke, she stroked the long grass with her fingers. Sarah watched, horrified, as the cuts that appeared in the fabric of her gloves disappeared almost as quickly as they were made.

"I've always wanted his Labyrinth," The Queen began. "We all do. It's not because it's grander, or more beautiful than any of our own lands. And it's not that we don't love our own kingdoms. It's just that… The Labyrinth was the first. It is the place where we all came from. Where _everything_ came from. And we all, secretly, want it for our own. It has the oldest and richest magic, and it's closest to the Aboveground. It's only through the Labyrinth that travel Aboveground is possible at all. And we all love to go Aboveground.

"But none of us dare to try and take it. The rulers of the Labryinth are always strong, and we all have our own borders to look to. How could we divert our strengths to conquer a land with such a unique and awesome power at its helm? And then… then I discovered my own Gift. We all have them, you know. They're separate from our Shapes, and they are unique to each member of our race. And mine… mine allowed me to create," her eyes were gleaming, and her smile faded from her face as she spoke. She actually moved her mouth awkwardly when she didn't have her smile fixed in place. It was as though she couldn't move her lips as easily around her pointed teeth.

"To create, when _nothing_ can be created outside of the Labyrinth. And _I could do it_," She shivered slightly, and seized a handful of grass in her hand. "This put me on the same level as the Kings and Queens who had ruled the Labyrinth! It made me even _more_ powerful than the young King who ruled it at the time, who hadn't even learned how to make use of his kingdom yet. I knew, as soon as I knew what I could do, that I could take it from him.

"But he was so stubborn," the murmured, still staring at Sarah. "He was one of the difficult ones. He couldn't be bought by promises of money or allegiance, or of promises of peace and power. Threats didn't work, and neither did temptation. I tried everything. But he was so enamored with his kingdom and all it's pesky little intricacies, that nothing I tried would do any good. I tried to stir up dissention, but there was nothing that could move my fellow rulers to rise against him. For all his youth, they were still afraid of his power. Disgusted, I retreated into my Grottoes, rejecting scheme after scheme that would surely fail to win my the Labyrinth.

"And then… such fortune! As part of his role as King, he accidentally let in a slip of a girl. A _child_. A human child. And she did what I could never do. She whipped through his precious Labyrinth, held it up before her careful eyes, and discarded it with all of a child's heartless disdain. And it destroyed him."

She was smiling again. Sarah swallowed heavily, and felt the tears dripping down her face and splashing onto the motionless grass.

"Here was my chance," the Queen hissed, leaning in closer to Sarah's face. "He'd lost all control. Shaken by this _child_, he threw himself away from the kingdom and the power that he adored, and retreated into a shell that he wrapped tightly around himself, keeping everything else out. _This was the chance I'd waited for!_"

The Queen rocked back and forth onto her heels, wrapping her arms around herself in a self-satisfied hug. "I tempted him. I went to him, and offered him the chance to go to this girl, and live free of the burden of the Labyrinth. And it was a burden for him, but then. He made it so. Or, rather, _she_ made it so. My, but you're ugly when you cry, monkey," Sarah tried to look away, but she couldn't even force her eyes closed. The blood was pumping through her head so loudly it almost hurt. "At any rate, he refused me. Very, _very_ much annoyed, I retreated once more. And then, then when I'd thought I'd spent my very last chance, I had an epiphany. I thought, well, if the _idea_ of the girl isn't enough, then perhaps the girl _herself_ will accomplish my aims. After all, she did _so_ well before. Didn't you, Sarah?"

Sarah rocked back as if she'd been hit. "What—what are you going to do?" she asked furiously, though the affect of her anger was slightly dampened by her choking sobs.

"Don't worry," the Queen said, smiling again. "It won't hurt. I'm sure you'll like it. In fact, I _know_ that you will, because I'll _tell_ you to. And you'll do what I tell you. But you get to be like Magda! Look!" and the Grotto Queen seized Sarah's chin and yanked her to her feet, forcibly pointing her face at Magda, who was watching with wide eyes. "Isn't she _pretty?_"

At the Grotto Queen's touch, Sarah's face suddenly went blank. She was standing in a dark hallway, and there was a man with long, coarse black hair kneeling on the ground before her. She'd seen this before, when she was with the two voices after she got her memory back. The man looked up at her, and almost smiled. And then she raised her hand, and…

Sarah gasped, and jerked back into the present. She fought against the grip of the Queen, but her hand was clamped around her jaw like a vise.

"You see… I know…" The Queen said, pulling Sarah closer so that she was speaking into her ear. "That he will do _anything_ for me, when I have the one thing that he cares about above all willing to kill herself for _me_. He won't be able to _bear_ it. And I'll make him a trade. You, my willing goblin slave, in return for his kingdom."

She threw Sarah from her forcibly, and she hit the ground at Magda's feet with a thud. She felt all the air fly out of her, and lay gasping for a moment.

"Magda," the Queen said, her light voice unmistakably steely. "Pick her up. It's time."

Magda put a hand to her head. Why… why did she feel so sick? She shouldn't feel this strange. But… but… She bent over, and ran a hand under Sarah's shoulders, hoisting her up.

"What was his name?" the girl wheezed, looking up at her.

"What?" Magda asked blankly, still feeling as though her head would fall off if she let it go. "Who?"

"The man," Sarah said. "the man with the black eyes and the long black hair."

"Nico?" Magda asked, mystified. "Do you mean Nico? Do you know him?"

"She… she needed a way through… and he was there, trying to save you… and… and she came… and…"

"Magda!" the Queen trilled, but Magda wasn't listening.

"…and," the girl went on, staring into Magda's face. "And he opened the way for her, and she… she cut him down. Without—without any warning."

"Cut him?" Magda said blankly, her skin paling.

"She tricked him. He was just… just doing it for you, but she… she fooled him into thinking… that he could be with you…"

"Nico," Magda said softly, raising her eyes stare at the Queen.

"I don't… I don't know if he's alive," Sarah said, knowing it was cruel as she did so. "But… there was a lot of blood…"

"What," Magda said roughly, all but dropping Sarah as she turned to the Queen. "Did you _do?"_

The Queen thought for a moment, and cocked her head to one side. "What, to the Woodlander? He cut a deal with me. And then I cut him. Ha! That's funny, Magda, isn't it?" she grinned toothily at Magda, her eyes dancing.

"You… you… how? Why would you do that to him?" She asked, not comprehending. Her head hurt so much… "He didn't _do_ anything. He was just… just trying to help me! He looks after me, and you… you…"

"Looks after you?" The Queen repeated, laughing. "Magda, you are _such_ a fool! You're his dear one! His light, his passion, the reason he threw himself into this and many other insane ventures. The little worm _loves_ you, and he always has, ever since he first bumped into you just after you arrived in my court."

Magda stood absolutely still.

She cleared her throat, and tried to speak. All that came out was a weak rasp. She shook her head, and tried again. "I won't help you any more," she said as strongly as she could, though her knees felt as though they were about to give way. Was it true? "I won't. I'm done with you, and with all your… your _schemes._ I won't be a part of it any more."

For a moment, the only sound was of Sarah's labored breathing as she got to her feet. The guards stood impassively, ignored and forgotten by the three figures they surrounded.

Then the Queen smiled, though this time her teeth had a definite edge.

"You… won't be a _part_ of it?" she laughed, a low chuckle that was different than the tittering noise she'd made before. "You won't be a part of it? You… you little worm. I. _Made._ You. You were my first experiment. The first little bit of nothing at all that I _made. _A little child who'd swum out too far, and who made friends with the pretty lady she met deep under the water. And I made you better, and I made you _mine_. How _dare_ you say such things to me, Magda, when I made you myself!"

The silence of absolutely nothing filled the park. And then Magda screamed. She didn't know for who, or why. She forgot who she was, and she forgot where. All she could think about was the feel of water against her skin, and the sight of a dark face smiling into hers, reaching out for her as she brushed past him again and again…

…and she screamed, dropped to the ground, and wailed into the earth.

The Queen frowned slightly at her, and rolled her eyes. "So _noisy_. You mean you never wondered _why_ you could barely use your powers at all? _Why_ you couldn't be like _us?_ Look!"

She stalked over to Magda, and ripped the gloves off her hands with one motion. Exposed to the blue light, the skin was bare and unmarked, except for two large, pale circles on the back of each hand. Surrounded by the gold, the light color stood out like a beacon. Magda cried out, and tried to pull her hands away, but the Queen held them tightly, pulling them up so Magda dangled limply, wailing with her eyes screwed tightly shut.

"Not even a proper _shape! _You never even guessed? Well, of course you didn't," the Queen said, dropping Magda's hands with an expression of dainty disgust on her face "Because I never _told_ you to!"

"That," said a cold voice from behind Sarah. "is enough."

Sarah turned…

…and her breath stopped.

_He was there._


	11. Chapter 11

**Disclaimer: not mine, not mine, not mine! Stop asking me! Sheesh. Well, the least you can do is review. Don't make me beg. **

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Nico opened his eyes. The hallway was dark, though maybe that was just his vision. Where was he? What had happened? Where was… He could feel his lungs struggle to pump air into and out of his body, and the steady thud of his heart was much more labored than it usually was.

_Where was Magda?_

He tried to push himself up, but cried out as a searing pain split all along his side. He fell hard against the stone, and blacked out.

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There was no flashy portal opening, and no crashing or glitter. He was just _there_, as if he'd been hiding behind a tree the entire time.

Sarah could remember him. She remembered the straw colored hair that defied gravity, and the slanting eyes and the line of his jaw. Why couldn't she remember his_ name_?

"This is going much, much too far, Milady," he said calmly, a smile in his voice if not on his face. "And I think you've gotten just a bit overexcited."

The Queen turned away from the sobbing Magda, and grinned at the Goblin King with true joy. "Oh! How good to see you in the flesh at last! It's been some time, you know."

"Yes," Jareth said, regarding her coolly. "I know."

They now formed an untidy sort of square. Magda and Sarah were on one side, with the King and the Queen on the other, the Queen standing opposite of Magda. Sarah noted blearily that it almost looked like they were about to dance, or something. Was there a card game that was set up like this? 'Kings and Queens on one side, hapless pawns on the other'?

"So," The Queen said, idly stirring the fabric of her green dress with one finger into a maelstrom of cloth. "What do you intend to do now, King? I have your monkey girl here, see?"

She pointed at Sarah, and nodded invitingly at the King. He didn't look at the flushed and panting girl, however. His eyes were fixed on the face of the Queen. Sarah felt a vague flutter of embarrassed hurt, despite herself.

"And you think I won't try and prevent this?" the King snarled. "You've overstepped yourself, milady. And I won't forget it. Give me the child."

"No," the Queen said, eyes glittering at him. "I don't think that I will. Why would I, when I finally have you where I want you?"

He frowned, and raised his chin slightly. What on earth was she talking about?

"Oh," The Queen sighed. "It's typical that you'd show up _after_ I finished explaining my intentions. I'll make it brief. I take _her—" _she pointed again at Sarah; again the King's eyes didn't waver from the Queen's face. "—and I turn her into one of _us_. Or almost, at any rate. I make her like that one," She pointed now at Magda, who was lying still, face pressed to the grass. "And I make her completely mine."

She smiled gently, watching the King stiffen, eyes widening. Her gown whipped around her, spiking out before darting back to curl around her arm or waist. Her face had a new sheen to it, as though she was sweating.

"That's impossible," the King said finally. "Impossible. You can't."

"Silly _child_," The Queen snapped, face contorting into a snarl for a moment. "Don't presume to tell me what I can or can't do. You have _no idea_. In my hands—" she held them out in front of her as though for his inspection. "—I hold the power to make and unmake. I will change the matter of her being, and, should you even _touch_ me, I'll unmake _you_. Believe me," and she grinned widely. "I've tested it thoroughly."

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Nico's eyes flickered open again, but this time he didn't try to move. His face was sticky with blood, and he could no longer feel the right side of his body. He stared blankly at the wall, his face frozen and calm.

He'd failed. Not once, but twice. What an absolute fool he'd been. Trust the Queen? What had he been thinking? And now… now there was nothing he could do anymore. He was useless. Useless. And he was too exhausted to even feel anything.

"What a waste," he croaked tiredly, tasting blood in his mouth. "Such a waste."

He closed his eyes for a moment, exhausted by the business of staying conscious and aware. He was so tired…

He shifted his head slightly, trying to find a patch of stone that wasn't matted with drying blood. Nothing to do but just lie here. He would die soon, probably. He'd never heard of it happening before, but this must be what it was like. Well, he wouldn't be the first priest to die. Others must have before him. So at least he wasn't letting his legacy down.

Though he was letting down just about everything else.

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Magda remembered.

She remembered waking up and not being what she'd been before. No, further back. She remembered the bottom of the lake, and the arms lovingly wrapped around her shoulders. Further still? She remembered… Yes. She remembered living there. She remembered being small, and round, and quick. She remembered a woman. A mother? The word was alien and inappropriate to her mind, but to the mind of the child… it fit. And she'd swum out too far one day, when her mother hadn't been looking… and there'd been a beautiful woman…

Magda raised her head slightly, to look at the pale circles on the backs of her golden hands. It made sense. Yes, it made sense. Such an awful, _awful_ truth. She retched hollowly, her throat sore from screaming. Awful... So awful... she couldn't stand it any more. It had to end. It _had_ to.

The King's hands had clenched themselves into fists. _Calm... stay calm..._ The face of the Queen seemed to expand in his vision, until all he could see was pointed teeth and flushed green skin. _Focus... stay calm_.

The Queen was smiling again. "So, are you going to just stand there? Are you going to even attempt to stop me?"

He didn't answer. He could hear one of the others coughing and moaning. Was it Magda? He didn't dare look, in case it wasn't. He didn't want to look at her yet. He couldn't. Not yet.

* * *

Nico wasn't dead. And he was sick of waiting for it to happen.

He tried to push himself up a few more times, but he was caught by intense dizziness every time he put the slightest weight on the right side of his body.

Useless.

He gritted his teeth, and groaned. He wanted out. He was done. Done with this kingdom, done with the Goblins in it, done with those of his race who treated him like... like something _inferior_. He was finally done with it, but he was unable to leave it. It wasn't _fair_. Wasn't it his right? Wasn't he allowed to just go away, after failing so miserably to save the goblin he cared most about?

Useless.

He raised his left fist, and slammed it as hard as he could into the stone floor. It bounced off the stone with a weak 'thlap' sound. He couldn't even do _that_ right.

Nico opened his eyes again, expression glazed. One more time. Just because he couldn't think of anything else to do.

He raised his head and looked at the charcoal and candles surrounding him. A spark of curiosity flared in mind before he could squash it.

_Yes, why hadn't the charm worked?_

He moved his head as little as possible, looking around at the smeared marks and blood. Yes, it was all as the book had told him. He'd done it all right. Why... why...

He looked up, and saw it. There, just a few feet above his head, and to the right. The candles had spilled their wax, and formed the shape of a heart. A rough, blurred heart, like one drawn by a child, but an unmistakable heart nonetheless.

And then it all made sense.

* * *

"Answer my question!" The Queen said happily, moving closer to Sarah, eyes on the King. "Are you going to stop me?"

The King didn't move. He was shaking, and his eyes had narrowed into almost nothing, but he didn't say anything. Sarah watched him raptly, begging him to do something. She wasn't able to move on her own. There was something… something wrong… she had to run, had to get out! But she... she couldn't.

"No, I thought not." The Queen said, her grin fading slightly. "I was right about you, then. You think that this girl is the most important thing to you, but you're wrong. The reason you won't stop me is because you're afraid of losing _yourself_. You really love your glitter and your crystals, don't you? You love your castle, and your clever mazes, and your amusing little diversions. You can't give those up, can you? You're willing to watch this girl become a little wretch like that—" she pointed forcefully at Magda, who was still a crumpled heap on the ground. "—as long as you don't have to lose _yourself_!"

She paused to allow him to speak. He didn't.

The Queen laughed softly, and she didn't smile.

Sarah tried to move. She tried to force her legs to carry her as far away from this park as she could. She didn't want to be changed. She didn't want to watch this King (why couldn't she remember his _name?_) stand there without looking at her. But she couldn't move.

_Useless_, she thought, frustrated. _Absolutely useless.

* * *

_

She remembered.

_"Hello, child," Said the lady. "Are you lost?"_

_She didn't answer, suddenly embarrassed of her soggy dress and hair. She shuffled her feet nervously, and smiled up at the beautiful lady. _

_The lady smiled, and beat her long tail against the rock. "Will you swim with me, child?"_

_She didn't even think of refusing. She took the outstretched hand, and let the lady guide her under the water, then deeper. Deeper. Deeper. _

_She couldn't breathe. She couldn't... couldn't breathe! She struggled, trying to pull free of the lady. She needed to get up. She was too deep. But the lady wouldn't let go of her._

Help,_ She thought, pushing against the pale hand with her feet. _Help me, someone! Help!

_"Now, now," the lady said, stopping and pulling the child into her arms. "Don't cry. I'll take good care of you, I promise. Alright? So don't cry."_

_Almost mad with panic, the child tried to wriggle free, but arms circled her waist and shoulders, and she couldn't break free. She was getting weaker and weaker..._

_And then the lady smiled, pulled one arm away, and carefully placed one hand over the child's heart. _

_The girl froze, eyes wide and blank. Her small body stiffened in the arms of the lady, her mouth opening wordlessly. _

_The lady smiled, and pressed harder on the fragile child. _

_She bucked, arms and legs jerking as she screamed without air or sound. A gold stain spread over her body from the spot where the lady touched her, and her eyes rolled back into her head._

_The lady laughed, and then--_

_"Magda," a voice said, and Magda looked up. She was in the throne room, kneeling before a beautiful lady dressed in floating green. "Are you alright?"_

_"Yes," Magda said slowly, staring up into that beautiful green face. "I'm... I'm fine."_

_The Queen's mouth opened in a wide, predatory smile, and Magda nodded. "I'm fine."

* * *

_

His arm inched forward, straining to get to the edge of the wax heart. But his left arm just couldn't reach. Impossible.

Nico stopped, breathed, and braced himself. There was only one thing he could do. Dragging himself forward with one hand, he pulled himself closer to the heart, inch by inch. The angle was right. The time was right. All he had to do was..._do it_.

Why did the thought of death scare him so much now?

_No time for this, _He told himself grimly. _It's not important anymore. If I do this... if I can do this for her... than all the mistakes I've made will make it alright. It has to. It's the least I can do for her now. _

He closed his eyes, and gritted his teeth.

He had to do this now.

* * *

The Queen stared at the King one moment longer.

"Finally," she breathed, when it was clear that he wasn't going to move. "Finally, I'm going to _win._ Watch her, Jareth. Watch her as I make her mine."

Three things happened, all at the same time, and all very quickly.

The first: "Jareth?" Sarah breathed, looking at the Goblin King. And he— he was looking back at her! His eyes were wide, and he was ghostly pale, mouth slightly open, and he was _looking at her. _

"Sarah," he mouthed, unable to make a sound.

The second: The Queen lunged towards Sarah, hand outstretched, face expressionless as she reached out, power pooling in her palm.

The third: Her gloved hand thudded into Jareth's chest.

They stood there for a moment, The Queen's hand planted in the middle of his chest, Sarah standing behind him, Jareth staring down at the hand, as though he couldn't believe that he'd just leapt in front of it.

"No," the Queen whispered, eyes wide with horror.

And then Jareth was blasted back, carrying Sarah with him. The pair crashed into the ground, and there was silence.

"No," the Queen said, as Sarah moved, slowly pushing herself up.

"No," she repeated as Sarah bent over the fallen King, touching his face with anxious, light fingers. "No, that's not— it wasn't— No!"

* * *

Nico flung his arm forward, and the gash on his shoulder reopened, blood spattering the wax heart and the stone door behind it. He screamed, and bit through his lip in an attempt to stifle the sound. He couldn't move... he couldn't...

The stone door creaked open, and a woman stepped out. Not recognizable as Goblin or human, she was just light. She seemed to fluctuate gently, never keeping a set shape. But she was beautiful. Nico looked up at her, smiling a little.

And then his strength gave out, and he fell, for the last time.

The woman stepped over his body, and looked around at the hallway

_"Finally,"_ She said. _"I'm glad to be out of there. Though I think I may be a little late."

* * *

_

Magda's eyes opened wide. For a moment she saw a dark haired figure lying at her feet, and then she wasn't alone anymore.

_"My turn," _A voice said in her mind, as her body moved without instruction, rising to its feet and walking steadily towards the Queen.

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**A/N: Hm. Wow. Only two more chapters. Wow. How bizarre.**


	12. Chapter 12

**Disclaimer: not mine, not mine, not mine! Stop asking me! Sheesh. Well, the least you can do is review. Don't make me beg. **

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Magda's eyes flashed with gold light, and she wasn't Magda any longer.**

"Magda?" The Queen asked, turning to see the golden woman advancing on her, eyes nothing but pits of golden light. "Magda, what are you—"

"_Wrong,"_ Magda said, in a voice that wasn't hers. _"I'm not Magda. I'm the missing piece. And I'm taking her from you, now. You robbed me of my King."_

"What?" the Queen said, backing away. "I don't—"

And Magda raised her arms above her head, and brought them down with vicious strength. The Queen stood very still, staring at the girl who'd once been her slave, and blinked.

Then a blue hole opened up in her stomach, pulsing and glittering. The Queen looked down at it, raising her hands as though to cup the light in her palms. She opened her mouth to speak, but the light suddenly shot through her arms and legs, unraveling the fabric of her body as though it was made of yarn.

Magda seemed to grow, her back straightening and lengthening as she looked around the park. She pointed at one of the Grotto guards, who watched her with blank eyes. She drew an invisible line along the group of guards, and flicked her finger up. A red line connected the guards for one moment, before they flew apart into blue confetti and glitter.

"_So much mess,"_ Magda said in her new voice, eyes and face blank. _"I can't believe I didn't get here sooner."_

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Sarah knelt over the body of the Goblin King, prodding him with increasing panic, until she was beating him bodily with her fists.

"Get! Up!" She hissed, staring down at him furiously. "Don't you _dare_ do something as stupid as that and then _leave!_ Get! _Up!"_ She burst into tears, her fists thudding into his shoulders and chest as she wailed.

"It's not fair! Please! It's just not fair!"

"_Stop that," _said a voice from behind her. Sarah turned, tears leaking down her face.

She opened her mouth to say something to Magda, but then she saw it.

"Oh," she said breathlessly. "Oh, it's you, isn't it?" She stopped, wiping her nose on her sleeve. "You're the one the other two were talking about? The woman in the door? Please, please, can you—"

"_I'm not really one woman,"_ She said, kneeling next to the body of the King. _"I'm every one of us who decided that she couldn't leave the Underground. Or what she found there."_

The woman looked out of Magda's eyes at the King, and her stony face softened. _"I'm his mother, I think._"

"Magda's his mother?" Sarah asked, amazed

"_No, of course not,"_ the woman said softly, putting one hand on Jareth's forehead. "_Magda is just his successor. She's the only one left now."_

"Successor?" Sarah repeated. "So he's—he can't—Why can't he?" she burst out, face contorting as she started crying again. "Why can't you fix him? This isn't—this isn't right! This is never how it would have happened in a story!"

"_Life isn't a story, girl,_" The woman said, looking up at her with Magda's face. _"The sooner you learn that, the better. I can't return him to what he was. That power of hers was too strong. But it didn't unmake him totally. What it unmade was the Goblin part of him—the legacy he inherited from his father. If he was truly destroyed, then there would be nothing left of him. But this is left," _She gestured to the King. _"This, his humanity. That part of him that allowed him to rule my Labyrinth."_

Sarah couldn't think of anything to say. She was crying too hard to speak, at any rate, even if she'd been able to form words that made sense.

Magda's hand on the King's forehead glimmered softly, and his chest suddenly expanded as he sucked in air. Sarah froze mid-sob, grasping his shoulder with one hand.

Jareth's eyes opened, and he let out a shaky breath.

"Oh," he murmured, staring up at the blue sky. "Oh, remind me _never_ to do that again."

Sarah let out a sort of laugh-sob, and he looked at her, blinking as though the action of rolling his eyes to look hurt him.

"I mean it," he said quietly. "You ever get yourself in such a fix again, I'm not going to do anything. No, stop laughing. I'm utterly serious."

He reached up with one hand, and rested it briefly on her cheek.

"I feel horrible," he whispered to her, smiling weakly. "What sort of trouble did you get me into this time?"

"_You aren't what you were," _Magda said, getting to her feet. Her yellow eyes turned on Jareth as he stared at her, puzzled.

"Magda?" he said slowly.

Magda shook her head. _"No. I'm the third part._"

His mouth opened, and he stared at her. "So… so… what are you doing inside Magda's body?" has asked when he could speak.

"_She's the new Goblin King,"_ The woman said, an expression almost like pity flashing across Magda's face.

"The new—" Jareth stopped, closing his eyes. He stayed still for a moment, face expressionless. He slowly raised one hand in front of his face, and twitched his fingers.

Nothing happened.

Opening his eyes, he stared around him at the park. Nothing looked different.

He pushed himself up to a sitting position, gently brushing Sarah's hand off his shoulder.

"What do I do now?" he whispered, staring at his gloved hands. As though in a dream, he pulled off one glove, than the other. The pattern of feathers had vanished, showing instead the mark of blue veins and nearly translucently pale skin. The only traces left of his Shape were the black fingernails, which glittered in the blue light. A reminder of what he'd been, even if he'd never be it again.

"What do I do?" he asked Magda, looking up at her blankly. "I _am_ the Goblin King. It's all that I've ever been. I can't—I can't be something_ else_. I have nothing else to be," he stopped, running out of words.

Magda looked away from him, and focused instead on the park. Spreading out her right hand, she nodded once.

Time returned. The ripples continued spreading across the lake, and the suspended birds, unaware of their imprisonment, continued flying across the sky.

Sarah opened her mouth, closed it, cleared her throat, and tried again. "You know," she said quietly, looking around at the park. "Human life isn't that bad."

Jareth looked up at her, one eyebrow raised in supreme disbelief.

"No, really," Sarah said, frowning at him. "And maybe it would be easier if… if you tried living it with me."

Jareth's eyes widened, and he turned to look her full in the face. Sarah flushed, but she met his gaze evenly.

"Think about it," she said softly, smiling.

Neither of them noticed as Magda backed away, looked once at the pair of them, and then vanished.

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_("How do we know what you say is true?" Nico had asked, sitting stiffly before the Queen. _

"_I can prove it," she'd said happily, smiling gently at him. "Would you like me to show her to you?"_

"_Her?" He'd asked, frowning, as the Queen had signaled to her court. All but one of them filed out, and the one left behind…)_

The woman stood again in the hallway that held the stone door. There were more people in the room, and it was brighter and noisier.

"Magda!" A thin, pale man with closely-cut red hair ran up to her and seized her hand. "Magda, it's Nico, don't – don't come any closer!"

"_I don't have much time,"_ Said the voice of the woman through Magda's mouth. _"And I owe this to them. Move."_

Tero's mouth dropped open, but he stepped to the side, allowing her pass.

Comte was kneeling next to the fallen Woodlander. He'd rolled him onto his back, exposing the ugly mass of blood and gore that covered his shoulder and arm. Nico's eyes were closed, his brown cheeks sunken. His face was stained with his own blood.

_("Magda," The Queen had said, beckoning her over. "Come greet our guest."_

_Nico had frowned at the approaching Goblin girl, taking in her tangle of brown hair and golden skin. The girl had looked up into his face then, and his eyes had widened with sudden surprise._

"_This is her," the Queen said cheerfully. "The human girl I made into one of us. Now will you join me?" she reached down and pulled off Magda's gloves, showing him the pale circle of skin on each hand.)_

Comte looked up, face ashen. "I don't know what else to do," he said brokenly, staring up into Magda's glowing eyes. "I think he's—he might be—"

"_Move_," Magda said gently, nudging him aside with one foot. _"I need you to—" _She stopped talking, frowned, and raised a bare hand to her face. _"How annoying. Why is she crying? I won't be able to see with her sobbing all over me."_

Huge tears were sliding out of the blank golden eyes. Making frustrated noises, Magda brushed the tears away, but they kept coming.

"_Hold on,"_ she murmured under her breath, as Tero and Comte looked on. _"I'll do what I can. Just hold on."_

Kneeling next to the fallen Woodlander, staining her skirt with the blood on the floor, she pressed her hand over the wound, and closed her eyes.

_(Nico hadn't been able to answer for a moment. What was wrong with him?_

"_No," he had said finally. "No, we won't help you in this, Milady. This is—this is—" he'd struggled for words, looking at the golden girl. "—We won't help you with this."_

"_Magda," The Queen had said prettily, eyes suddenly cold as she looked at the Woodlander messenger. "You will forget this."_

_Magda had nodded, and then looked up, eyes suddenly clear. She'd nodded again at Nico, as though seeing him for the first time._

"_It's nice to meet you, Nicodemus," she'd said. And then she'd smiled.)_

Tero and Comte waited, watching the golden-haired girl leaning over the Woodlander.

"That's not Magda, is it?" Tero asked, taking Comte's hand in his own.

"No," Comte said, gently squeezing Tero's hand. "I don't think so."

"Will Magda come back?" Tero asked, closing his eyes against the scene before him.

Comte didn't answer. He blinked rapidly, then also looked away.

Finally, Nico stirred. Slowly, he opened his eyes. Magda smiled into his black eyes, her own glittering yellow ones still leaking tears.

"_Thank you for releasing me,"_ The woman said. _"I'm going to leave her now. I'm almost spent. She'll be weak for a long time. You can help her, if it doesn't pain you too much. But even a priest of mine might have trouble managing the Labyrinth."_

"I think—," Nico rasped, smiling faintly. "—I think I can handle it."

"_Good,"_ the woman said. _"Good bye, Priest_."

And then the light vanished from Magda's eyes. Returned to herself, she smiled at Nico, opened her mouth to say something, and then flopped over, asleep before she hit the stone floor.

* * *

...

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**A/N: Only one more chapter left. I actually didn't plan for there to be 13, it just creepily happened that way. woooo! spooky! Let me know what you think, honestly. I've never written something like this before, so I'd appreciate the feedback.  
And no, I didn't kill Nico. Did you really think that I would? He's by far my favorite in this story, so I couldn't bring myself to do it. ha ha. **


	13. Chapter 13

**Disclaimer: Boy, I give up. If you haven't gotten this ownership thing down by now, then nothing I say now is going to convince you, will it? READ! LAST CHAPTER!

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It was Sarah's turn to wash the dishes. She'd done them without thinking, almost without seeing the plates around her. Something had been tickling at the back of her mind all day. It was giving her a headache.

But then, she'd been having trouble adjusting to everything lately. All the work she'd thought so important, all the people she knew she needed to like, and all the places she'd thought were important suddenly _weren't._ There was just more going on in her mind these days.

Partly because of the dreams, she was sure. It had been a long time since she'd dreamt like that. And it was carrying over into her waking life. She'd caught herself reciting '_The Lady of Shalott'_ on her way home from school last week, though she hadn't read that poem in years. And her friends were worried about her. She'd really changed in the past few weeks. They said it was 'kinda _bizarre_, you know?' And Sarah had just laughed.

Putting the last dish on the rack to dry, Sarah paused in the middle of her kitchen, thinking. She could hear her Dad talking quietly on the phone, and the splashing of Toby taking a bath. It was all so _quiet. _She could go back upstairs, despite this itchy feeling. She knew she had a lot of work to do. She _always _had a lot of work to do.

_But really,_ she thought as she went to the kitchen door and carefully slid it open. _Nothing puts the pressure of college and growing up into perpective like facing the prospect of a life of servitude at the hands of a smiling monster._ There was nothing she had to do that couldn't wait for this.

The yard was dark and cool, and filled with a soft light. Sarah wished, as she always used to when she came back here at night, that it was the soft light of the moon, but it wasn't. It was just the light of the streetlamp a few houses over, nothing special about it. Sarah settled herself on the bottom porch step, clasping her hands around her knees. She didn't look at the spot where she knew he'd appear. She fixed her eyes on the sky, and carefully thought of nothing. Just in case he didn't come.

But he _did_ come, stepping around a tree as though he'd happened there by accident. Making no sound as he walked towards her across the lawn, he was still the same mythic figure. How had she even been able to forget? He settled himself next to her as if it was only natural that he'd be there. Sarah smiled, but didn't look at his face.

"They aren't all _that_ interesting," he said dryly, pointing up at the stars. "You know what they really are, don't you?"

"Sure. Fiery balls of gas and flame, billions of miles away? Yes, I guess so. But I still like to look at them. Knowing what they really are doesn't mean they're any less fascinating."

There was silence for a while. Then Sarah looked at him fully. He was still looking up at the sky, his profile sharp and fierce and pale. Even dressed in jeans and sneakers, he still didn't appear entirely normal. He gave off a decided air of otherworldliness. For all that he was no longer a Goblin, he still wasn't quite human. It was almost lonely to look at him, really.

"So," Sarah said. "Where have you been?"

He shrugged elegantly, leaning back against the step. "Here and there. I had a lot to think about, you know. You know my father?" he said suddenly. "Well, no, you wouldn't, I suppose," he tugged at the sleeve of his shirt, his black fingernails reflecting the kitchen light from inside the house. "Before he was executed, he became very fond of chasing after people with an ax," he ran a hand through his logic defying hair and grinned. "I was tempted to follow his example. But I've thought of something better."

"Really?" Sarah asked, hugging her knees. "What's better than chasing people with axes?"

"This," he said simply, cupping his hand in front of him. Frowning and gritting his teeth, he glared at his fingertips, trembling slightly. Sarah watched as a shaky blue globe about the size of a large marble appeared in the center of his palm. It wobbled into being, and was still for a breathless moment before it quietly unmade itself in a rain of blue sparks.

Sarah looked at the deposed Goblin King, who returned her stare with his human eyes.

"So…" she said, suddenly having trouble talking. "So what does it mean?"

"It means," he said brusquely, getting to his feet. "That I'm going away."

"Ah," Sarah said, raising her eyebrows at him. "Do you think you'll be alright on your own? It's a dangerous world out there."

"I resent that you would even _say_ something like that," he said loftily, flicking away a bit of dirt from the sleeve of his t-shirt. _How can he look so regal dressed like a kid from school? _Sarah thought as she tried not to smile at him. "I'll be able to take care of myself, of course."

"Alright," she said.

" 'Alright'?" he repeated, glaring at her. "And that's all you have to say?"

"For now," she said. "I have to figure things out too, you know. Things have changed. I mean, remembering and everything. It… well… I'm not sure what I am anymore."

"So do you regret it?" He asked, his face unreadable.

"No," she said, not looking at him. "No, not at all."

"Really?" he asked as if he didn't care. He was so histrionic, sometimes. It was maddening. "You know, if you _hadn't_ remembered, it's likely that none of this would have happened. You'd still be tearing your hair out nightly over that 'S-A-T' trouble, and you'd emerge from this temperamental stage quite normal, with perhaps a strange fear of birds. You could find a nice _boy _and have a nice house and a lovely job. Maybe you'd even settle down and have some little children, who would perhaps be completely and sweetly unremarkable. That loss doesn't prompt the littlest bit of regret?"

"Not really," She said, finally turning to look at him. "I don't think I could _ever_ want to forget."

He tried to think of something to say, and accidentally looked at her. _Really _looked at her, taking in the shadows in her face and hair, and the bright lines the electric light cast over her body. She looked so small, and so insignificant. That was almost funny. His hands opened and closed at his side, as though he couldn't decide what he wanted to do with them. There was so much he knew he had to say. He had so much to explain, and to try and make clear. But… but…

"Take care, Sarah," he said finally, his voice nothing more than a murmur, and then he was gone. He was running lightly across the yard, and then leaping over the chain link fence at the back as though it was only a yard high. He didn't look back.

Sarah waited until he was really gone, and then let herself go limp, frowning.

"That's _it_?" she said to herself, disappointed. "That's how it ends?"

"You don't really believe that it is," Came a voice from the other side of the porch. "You know that you don't."

Sarah whirled around, and saw Magda sitting on the porch swing, gently rocking herself with one heel. She almost blended into the darkness with her black leggings and vest, though Sarah wondered that she hadn't noticed the white blouse and golden belt flashing across at her. And the pendant was new, though Sarah had certainly seen it before.

"Is there some sort of uniform for being Goblin King?" Sarah asked, smiling. "As much spandex as possible, or something?"

"Don't try and be witty when you're confused, Sarah," Magda said gently, "Besides, I like the pants better than my skirts. They allow for much more freedom of movement. Which, believe me, is _very_ useful in my line of work."

"What about the gloves?" Sarah asked, gesturing at the golden hand that rested on the arm of the swing. "I thought you said you weren't going to wear them."

"Old habits die hard," Magda said, holding up a hand for Sarah's inspection. The delicately worked lace didn't hide the glowing pale patches of skin that marked the back of her hands, or the golden skin that surrounded them. "I can't change too much in a few weeks, you know."

Sarah nodded, and looked away from her. The silence of the night filled the porch, though the effect was somewhat ruined by the sound of a car alarm going off somewhere nearby.

"He'll be back," Magda said. Sarah stiffened. "He won't forget what he gave up for you. And I don't think that you should either. It will help, when the loss gets too hard to bear. Which it will."

"Speaking from experience?" Sarah asked weakly.

"No, not really," Magda said airily. "I haven't lost anything lately."

"You haven't?" Sarah asked, getting to her feet to stand before the new Goblin King, who wouldn't meet her eyes.

Magda waited a little before answering, inspecting the horned medallion she wore around her neck with careful attention.

"It's hard," she said finally, still looking at the medallion. "I won't pretend that it isn't. It's like—it's like losing your star," she spoke softly, looking less like the Goblin King and more like the flushed and emotional woman that had first flashed into Sarah's room weeks (only weeks? It seemed like years) ago. "I wasn't sure how to even start living without her. But it isn't so hard now. I'm even developing some sort of a sense of humor. Or Nico laughs at my jokes, any way. Though he might just be being kind. But waking up the first time after it all was hard," she stopped, remembering the strange warmth that had flooded through her, and watching her own arm cut down her Queen… and then Nico, bloody and aching but _alive_… "I suspect it will continue being hard for some time."

There was silence, as Sarah and Magda looked at each other. Magda looked away first, and rose to her feet. "But it's alright. I have a whole mess of things to keep my attention diverted."

"How _is_ Nico, by the way?" Sarah asked smiling, before she could stop herself. But Magda didn't seem offended by the question. Instead she smiled down at the girl, and there was something distinctly embarrassed and sly about that smile.

"He's fine," she said, moving away from Sarah, down the porch. "I'm settling in, with his help. I like to be contrary now, just because I can. It annoys him, sometimes," she smiled, and looked around at the yard. "But only sometimes. I made a lot of silly mistakes," she said heavily, turning to Sarah. "And I'm very lucky that he's willing to forgive me for them. That's really what I'm here for, other than to see Jareth off. I'd like to have your forgiveness, if you can spare it. Though I'll understand if you can't. God knows you haven't much reason to give it."

Sarah opened her mouth to answer, but the Goblin King held up a golden hand to stop her. "I don't need it right now. I'll be around, you know. When he comes back, I'll need to ask him a few things. And he'll come back to you long before he even _thinks_ of coming back to me. And besides," the King said, stepping off the porch and onto the grass. "I have it from a very good source that you know where a very bountiful source of plastic can be found. I'll need all the revenue I can get my hands on, what with all the repairs we're making."

Sarah laughed quietly, and Magda smiled at her.

"Take care, Sarah," Magda said, turning around, dust stirring up under her booted feet as she vanished.

Sarah watched her go, and stood on the porch for a long time after the goblin had vanished She thought of stars, and of Kings past and present, and wondered how she would be able to concentrate on her research paper after all this.

With a total absence of glitter, but with perhaps a different way of walking and smiling, Sarah Williams, who'd walked among the Goblins and been changed, went back into her house to live a very different life.

And she wasn't alone, and she wasn't forgotten. Neither did she forget. Not this time.

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**A/N: and… that's it. Thank you for reading all the way to the end, and sticking it out with me! Unless you're just joining in now, in which case _boy_ are you confused. But thanks to everyone who added this to their favorite and alert lists, and special thanks to Anij, who reviewed almost every chapter, because she's a champ. I really hope you liked the story! Thank you again and again!**


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